


Leo Inter Serpentes: Third Year

by Aeternum



Series: Leo Inter Serpentes [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blaise becomes a giant slut this year, F/M, Gen, Harry is force fed chocolate all year long, M/M, Mentor Snape, Oh god they're all in the middle of puberty send help, Parseltongue, People lose their collective shit over Firebolts, Seriously there's just so much chocolate, Severus does NOT want a school reunion thank you very much, Slytherin Harry, jealous!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 75,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1428286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeternum/pseuds/Aeternum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's back at Hogwarts, and his escaped convict godfather has followed him there, intent on murder. Harry would like to believe he's safe at school, but his death is being predicted on a weekly basis and, worst of all, Snape's taking the threat seriously. Lucky the Ministry has sent Dementors to guard the school, eh?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Many Letters are Exchanged

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Leo Inter Serpentes: Tercer año](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12820965) by [Sarificacion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarificacion/pseuds/Sarificacion)



Harry closed his History of Magic book with a satisfied snap. It was nearly midnight on 30th July, and he'd just finished all his holiday homework, leaving him with a whole month of freedom. He wasn't quite sure what to do with himself, to tell the truth.

For the first time in his life, the Dursleys had been leaving Harry alone over the summer. Instead of making him do chores all day, he'd mostly been ignored, which he greatly enjoyed. He had no doubt that this was mostly due to Narcissa threatening the Dursleys on the two occasions she'd met them, and resolved to pass along his thanks the next time he wrote to Draco. 

Harry felt a pang of loneliness when he thought of Draco. Sure, he may have been exchanging regular letters with his friends this year, but it wasn't the same as seeing them, and he missed Draco most of all. 

Shortly after arriving back at Privet Drive, Harry had received a letter from Draco that contained a cut out article from the _Daily Prophet_. Lucius Malfoy had been convicted of knowingly disseminating a cursed object with intent to murder, and had been sentenced to five years in Azkaban. Draco's letter had sounded fairly upbeat under the circumstances, but he hadn't been writing as often as Harry had expected he would. He didn't want to admit it, but he was worried about Draco. It couldn't be easy having a father who'd nearly caused the death of both of your best friends. 

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by an owl flying in through his open window. It wasn't one he recognised, and it took off as soon as he'd removed its letter and fed it an owl treat. He opened the letter curiously. 

_Dear Harry,  
Sorry it took me so long to reply – but I'm in Egypt! Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw and so we've all come over to visit Bill. He's my eldest brother, and he's a curse breaker for Gringotts working over here for a while. He's shown us all the tombs and they're so cool. All sorts of curses on them. Mum said I was too young to go in the last one, but the twins and I convinced Bill to show me around after she'd gone off to look at some market place. There were skeletons in there that had been messed up by curses – some of them had two heads! Those old Egyptians sure knew how to protect their treasure!_

_Hope you're having a good summer. Hermione says it's your birthday soon, so happy birthday too!_

_Ginny._

_PS. No, I haven't gotten possessed again. Very funny._  
_PPS. Although I wouldn't admit it if I had, would I?_  
_PPPS. I think I will try out for the Quidditch team. I've been flying with my brothers and some local kids. My brother Charlie's been giving me tips on flying as a Seeker. You better watch out next season!_  
_PPPPS. The twins say hello._

Harry laughed as he put Ginny's letter down. He was glad she was having a good summer. Her first year at Hogwarts hadn't been much fun as she'd been possessed for nearly half of it, and he thought she deserved a nice holiday. And it sounded like he might finally get to fly against a Gryffindor Seeker who could give him a challenge.

Another owl flew through the window, clutching a letter and large parcel. Like the first, it didn't hang around, and Harry opened the letter alone. It was his book list from Hogwarts, and a permission slip for him to visit Hogsmeade. Harry looked at the permission slip thoughtfully. While the Dursleys hadn't mistreated him this summer, he didn't think the new truce they had would extend to either his aunt or uncle signing this. This would take some work.

He put the paper down and picked up the parcel. The messy scrawl on the front was from Hagrid. He started to unwrap it but froze when whatever was inside moved. Coming from Hagrid, that couldn't be good. Especially when it sounded very much like a set of jaws snapping shut. 

Harry looked around his room before his eyes landed on Hedwig's empty cage. Harry shoved the parcel inside and shut the door. He eyed it suspiciously as it continued to move. He grabbed a ruler and a pair of scissors off his desk and awkwardly prised one corner of the wrapping paper up.

Harry was suddenly very happy he'd put the parcel in the cage. As soon as he'd lifted up part of the wrapping, the entire parcel had burst open, revealing a dark green book. _The Monster Book of Monsters_ was written across the cover in golden writing. It lunged forward and bit at the bars of the cage. Harry pulled one of his old robes out of his school trunk and threw it over the cage, and the book fell silent. He picked up the card Hagrid had sent along.

_Dear Harry,_  
_Happy Birthday!_  
_Think you might find this useful for next year. Won't say no more here. Tell you when I see you._  
_Hope the Muggles are treating you right._  
_All the best,_  
_Hagrid_

“Useful? That?” Harry muttered. With a sinking feeling, he grabbed his book list. Sure enough, _The Monster Book of Monsters_ was on it. Harry frowned at the still silent owl cage. If it was a school book, there had to be a way to render it readable. No one would assign a book that couldn't be read to school kids.

Harry grinned. Now he had something to do for the rest of the summer: figure out how to get his permission slip signed, and figure out how to turn his book into a book he could use. If only Hermione was here. If anyone knew the trick behind a book like this, it would be her. But she was in France, and might not have even gotten her book list yet. 

Harry had just resolved to pull his robe off the cage to have a closer look at the book when he heard a familiar hoot behind him. Soaring through the window were Hedwig and Thoth. Both of them were carrying parcels, and looked pleased with themselves as they landed on his bed. When he'd untied their packages, Hedwig made to fly over to her cage and stopped when she saw it was covered. She turned large, accusing eyes on Harry.

“Shit, sorry Hedwig. Here,” Harry said. He gave both owls a treat, then pushed forward the glass of water on his bedside table. Hedwig clicked her beak in reproval as she walked over to have a drink. “I'll show you what's in your cage in a minute,” Harry said as he opened the letter she'd carried, which turned out to be from Hermione.

_Dear Harry,  
Happy birthday! I was worrying I wouldn't be able to send you your present on time; the French use pigeons instead of owls, which I'm not sure about. But then Hedwig turned up completely unexpectedly. It doesn't seem very long since she delivered your last letter, I didn't think she'd get back to France so soon. I think she just wanted to make sure you got a birthday present on time for once._

_I found your present in a Muggle shop. I'm fairly certain it's authentic, as the tour wasn't that long ago, but I'm not sure. The sales boy was certainly enthusiastic about it, but then he would be in order to make a sale..._

_I'm still enjoying France, thank you for asking, but I'm not sure you would. There's so much fascinating history here that I've had to completely re-write my essay for Binns to fit it all in, but I know what you're like with that class. You'd like the food, though._

_I'll be back in England in the last week of August. Do you want to meet up in Diagon Alley sometime that week? Otherwise, I'll see you at King's Cross on 1st September._

_Love,  
Hermione_

Harry opened the parcel to find a black Pearl Jam t-shirt folded neatly. Under the band name was a stylised picture of some melted candles, and the back contained snatches of lyrics from _Black_. “Thanks Hermione!” exclaimed Harry as he held it up to check the size. He set it back on the bed and picked up the letter from Draco. 

_Dear Harry,  
Thank you for the belated birthday present. I'm sure one year, you'll manage to remember in time. This habit of yours of missing it due to fighting the Dark Lord is getting annoying, you prat._

Harry snorted. Last year, he'd been unconscious in the hospital wing on Draco's birthday. This year he'd been possessed by Riddle's diary for months before it, and had forgotten about it altogether. Trust Draco to make it sound deliberate.

_Late or not, that linguistics book has given me a few ideas of areas I should look into. I have no doubt that soon I'll be a better Parselmouth than you are._

_My holiday has turned out to be quite interesting, despite my earlier doubts. I mean, I love Mother, but I thought we'd get sick of each other fairly quickly with just the two of us. But she's taken me to meet her side of the family, whom I'd never even heard of before. I have a cousin! She's seven years older than us, and is a trainee Auror. She's pretty cool, especially for a Hufflepuff._

_It's weird not having my father around, but I expect I'll get used to it. Mother is handling everything very well, of course. Although, if I'm completely honest, she's formed a very strange relationship with Dobby. I know he was weird before he was free, but I think he's certifiably insane now. Mother seems to find it all adorable or some nonsense and usually lets him do whatever he wants. But I'll tell you more about that when I see you in person._

_I'm still hoping that Mother will change her mind and let you come visit, but even I have to admit it's not likely. If she's not with me or her sister, she's attending Ministry functions or performing charity work. When she goes out she usually leaves me with my aunt and uncle, which is fine, but I wish she'd, well, I'll tell you in person. Mother is taking me to the Continent for the next few weeks. She won't tell me where, exactly, but it sounds like we'll be moving around a lot. So I won't be able to write to you until we return to England. Maybe when we return you can come visit. Hermione will be back not long before me, so we could all meet up in Diagon Alley._

_I hope you enjoy your birthday present. It's holly, like your wand. My cousin tried to convince me you'd prefer it in hot pink, so please tell me I'm right about the colour so I can shut her up._

_I miss you,  
Draco._

_PS. If the Muggles are mistreating you despite Mother's threats, remember that revenge is a fun, time-honoured pastime, and I'm always happy to help you out with ideas._

Harry frowned briefly at the letter then shrugged. There was something odd about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it was past one o'clock. He could figure it out in the morning. He opened the present instead.

Draco had gotten him a hand-carved easel. There was a card from the maker attached to it, promising that it would fold to fit into any bag or case, and would automatically position itself in the best light for the artist's needs. Harry ran his hand over the polished wood before he carefully folded it up. As promised, it folded up far smaller than he would have thought, taking up nearly no space in his school trunk. He put the letters and his History of Magic work in there, checked he hadn't missed anything, and then locked it and put the key under his loose floor board. Just because the Dursleys were too scared to lock all his possessions in the cupboard under the stairs didn't mean that Dudley wouldn't come in and steal or break anything. 

Harry changed his pyjama top for his new t-shirt. It was a little big, but unlike Dudley's old clothes, he should grow into it just fine. He walked over to Hedwig's cage and lifted the robe off it. As soon as he did so, the book started shuffling around and biting the bars. Hedwig and Thoth stared at it.

“I'll sort it out in the morning, and then you can have your cage back,” he said apologetically. Hedwig gave him a distinctly unimpressed look and settled down on his headboard to sleep.

_Dear Draco,  
Thank you for the present, it's fantastic. Your cousin is definitely wrong about the colour, though. You were right, as usual. Happy? But seriously, don't ever buy me anything in bright pink. Not only is that not my thing, you know Pansy would end up making me give it to her._

_I miss you too, but don't bug your mum too much. The Dursleys have been surprisingly nice to me so far. At least by their standards. Have fun on your trip.  
Harry_

Harry gave the letter to Thoth and carried him to the window before finally going to bed.

********

  
Harry's hopes for the week were dashed when he joined the Dursleys for breakfast. They ignored him like they had been all summer, and he settled down to watch the news on the new TV they'd put in the kitchen for Dudley. A story about an escaped convict was ending with an appeal for information.

“Of course he's a criminal, just look at the state of his hair,” Uncle Vernon said angrily, giving half a glance at Harry before thinking better of it. 

Harry just smiled into his cornflakes. Mr Malfoy had always been perfectly groomed whenever Harry had seen him, but that hadn't saved him from being sentenced to Azkaban.

Uncle Vernon finished his breakfast and stood up. “I'll be off now, Petunia. Marge's train will be getting in soon.”

Harry's head shot up. “Aunt Marge is coming here?”

Uncle Vernon glared at him before making a visible effort to restrain himself. “Marge'll be here for a week. And while she's here,” he paused to take a deep breath, “I want no funny business from you.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Harry murmured, thinking fast.

Uncle Vernon looked at him suspiciously but nodded. “I've told her you board at St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. You'll be going along with that story while she's here.”

“Fine,” Harry said.

Uncle Vernon nodded. Harry could tell he wanted to threaten Harry like he used to, but Narcissa's threats were clearly well remembered.

Uncle Vernon kissed Aunt Petunia on the cheek and asked Dudley if he wanted to join him.

“No,” Dudley said without taking his eyes off the TV, which he'd now switched over to cartoons. 

Uncle Vernon lumbered off into the hallway. Harry sat at the table for a few seconds before he shot off after him.

“I'm not taking you,” Uncle Vernon said.

Harry snorted. “And here I was looking forward to it. I just want to make a deal with you.”

“What?”

“Third years at, er, my school are allowed to visit the village. If they have a signed permission slip.”

Uncle Vernon smiled nastily. “So? That woman never mentioned anything about us having to sign things for you.”

Harry smiled. “No, but she did tell you that she wanted you all to leave me alone. And that she expected me to write to Draco regularly.”

“So?” Uncle Vernon ground out.

“So, I'll play along with your little story for you, as long as I'm left alone as much as possible, and you sign the form.”

“Marge will expect to see you,” Uncle Vernon replied.

“At dinner, then. One hour a day. The rest of it, I'm to be left alone. Tell her I have a summer job, because I won't be in the house,” Harry said firmly. “I'll sort out my other meals.”

Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes. “How do we explain that owl of yours?”

Harry shrugged. “Tell her that boys at St Brutus's get given animals to look after as some sort of rehabilitation or something.”

“Fine. You stay out of the way, except for dinners at which you'll behave yourself. In return, you can keep the bird and I'll sign your form.”

“Deal.”

Harry ran up the stairs and grabbed his trunk key from under the floor. He quickly took out his Muggle money, Walkman, and a sketchpad and pencil, and threw them all into a backpack. He double checked the trunk was locked again before he pocketed the key. Hedwig was watching his activity with interest.

“I can't give you your cage back just yet,” Harry said as he stroked her. “I'll be back at dinnertime, and I'll do it then.”

Hedwig gave him an affectionate nip before settling back down to sleep. Harry made sure she had water before shutting the door and heading down the stairs. Dudley hadn't moved from the breakfast table, and was now watching music videos as Aunt Petunia fussed around in the kitchen. 

Harry quietly slipped out the front door and walked up Privet Drive quickly, heading in the opposite direction to the train station. It was a nice enough day, and he figured he could just hang out in a park until he had to come back home.

********

  
Luckily for Harry the weather stayed nice for the whole week. He would get up before dawn, swipe a few pieces of fruit from the kitchen and head out the door while the rest of the house slept. He made sure to stay away from places he knew Dudley and his gang liked to hang out in. He visited the library a few times, but mostly stayed in parks, listening to music and drawing. One day he visited the field behind the high school, and was pleased to find the grass snake he'd met last year. It was quite a bit bigger now, and spent a while telling him happily of all the small animals it had found to eat in the field.

Not even the dreaded dinners were as horrible as Harry had been expecting. The Dursleys were still scared of Narcissa's threats so instead of encouraging Aunt Marge to criticise Harry, changed the subject instead. Aunt Marge's bulldog, Ripper, still growled at Harry whenever he moved, but after facing a basilisk, Harry found him far less scary than he had previously.

All in all, Harry classified the week as a success. On the last day he even decided to dip into his Muggle money and treated himself to the new Nirvana tape he'd been hearing about.

His good mood even extended into helping Aunt Petunia with dinner. After two years of Potions, soup was something he could make with his eyes shut.

He should have known it was all too good to last.

In honour of Aunt Marge's last night at Privet Drive, Uncle Vernon had broken out a large bottle of brandy over dessert. He and Aunt Marge were working through it quite quickly, and Aunt Marge in particular was growing very red – and very talkative.

“So, Vernon, you never told me what it is the boy does at work,” she declared.

“I didn't?” Uncle Vernon stalled. “Well, he's, ah, working at a factory. All manual labour, lugging boxes, that sort of thing.”

Aunt Marge turned her beady eyes on Harry. “Manual labour? You don't look like you're working very hard, then. Weedy little thing. I bet you've been slacking off, haven't you.”

“I haven't had any complaints,” Harry said sullenly.

“Don't take that tone with me, boy,” she growled.

“I'm sure it's fine,” Aunt Petunia said nervously.

“Fine? Pah! Look at him!” Aunt Marge gulped down her brandy and held her glass out for a refill. “No muscle on him. Still, that could just be genetics. You get it with dogs, sometimes you just can't train them properly if there's something wrong with the bitch.”

“There was nothing wrong with my mum!” Harry snapped. The dishes started to rattle ominously, making the Dursleys flinch.

Aunt Marge ignored it, smirking at Harry. “She was a disgrace to her family, marrying that Potter.”

“She was a good person and you never knew her so just SHUT UP!” Harry yelled.

“A good person? She married a drunk and died in a car crash – probably their own fault – dumping you here!” snarled Aunt Marge.

“She wasn't a drunk! You seem to be, though,” snapped Harry.

Aunt Marge swelled with anger. “You rude little worm, if you'd been dumped on my doorstep it would've been straight to an orphanage with you!”

“Living in an orphanage would be more fun than living with you, you ignorant old woman!” shouted Harry.

Aunt Marge clambered to her feet with a red face as Ripper growled from beneath the table. “Ignorant? Me? I –” she stopped with a look of confusion as she continued to swell. “Vernon?” she asked in a completely different voice.

Uncle Vernon looked at her in alarm as a button popped off her suddenly too-tight blazer. It whizzed through the air, quickly followed by the rest. One of them smacked Dudley in the forehead, and he gave a small whimper as he climbed under the table.

Uncle Vernon glared at Harry. “What are you doing to her?”

“I'm not doing anything,” Harry said. Not intentionally, he added silently.

“VERNON!” bellowed Aunt Marge as she began to rise off the floor. Ripper started barking furiously as Uncle Vernon tried to grab her arm. 

He eventually got hold of her calf, as she was by now bobbing against the ceiling, moving slowly towards the open patio doors. Ripper stopped barking long enough to clamp his jaws down onto Uncle Vernon's ankle, making him bellow in pain.

“Stop it!” Aunt Petunia shrieked at Harry.

Harry ignored her and rushed upstairs into his room. He grabbed his trunk key from under the floorboard, took his wand out of the trunk and locked it again. Apart from Hedwig's cage, which still had the _Monster Book of Monsters_ trapped in it, all his possessions were already in his trunk. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Harry swore: Hedwig was still out hunting. 

Hoping she'd be able to find him, wherever he ended up, Harry dragged the trunk and cage downstairs. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were waiting for him in the hallway.

“You're not going anywhere until you fix her, boy!” Uncle Vernon growled. 

“Like hell I'm not,” snarled Harry, and brandished his wand. “I'm leaving. You can sort the bitch out yourself. She had it coming.”

“Boy!”

“NO!” Harry screamed. The glass in the front door shattered and Aunt Petunia screamed as she ran back into the kitchen. 

Uncle Vernon took a step towards Harry, but stopped when red sparks shot out of Harry's wand.

“I'll see you next summer,” Harry said with a sneer before storming out into the night, slamming the door behind him. 

Harry walked quickly through the dark streets, swearing under his breath. Occasionally he'd hear Aunt Marge screaming as she floated far above, and he smiled grimly. 

He came to a stop on Magnolia Crescent and sat down on a low brick fence as he took stock of his situation. He had a bag of Galleons, but only had a few Muggle pounds left on him, and he bitterly regretted wasting money on a tape now. He might be able to get a bus to London, or at least part of the way, and then make his way to Diagon Alley where he could go to Gringotts, but the buses wouldn't be running until the morning. 

At the thought of Diagon Alley he felt a small trickle of fear. Surely the Ministry would be looking for him? Last year they'd sent an owl almost immediately after Dobby's levitation charm. Tonight he'd not only used magic out of Hogwarts, he'd used it in front of a Muggle. He'd be expelled for sure, if not arrested. He looked up and down the street suddenly, half expecting Aurors to Apparate next to him. 

He didn't see anyone, but he did feel like someone was watching him. Ignoring the voice in his head – which sounded exactly like Draco – that told him he was being paranoid, he lit his wand. He swept it around him in a slow circle, peering into the shadows. 

He caught sight of something very large, with bared teeth, standing in the driveway in front of him. Surely that thing was too big to be a dog? He took a step backward and tripped over his trunk, putting his hands out in front of him as he landed hard in the gutter. 

There was a loud bang and a sudden flare of light. Harry yelled inarticulately as he scrambled out of the gutter and looked up. Parked in front of him was a bright purple triple-decker bus. As Harry stared at it, a conductor in a matching purple uniform stepped out and began to address the night.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and –” 

The speech came to a sudden stop when Stan looked down and saw Harry sprawled on the ground. Harry quickly got to his feet and brushed himself down.

“What 'choo down there for?”

“Tying my shoelace,” Harry said sarcastically.

“Right then, you want a lift or not?” Stan asked.

“Can you take me to the Leaky Cauldron?” Harry asked.

“Course we can,” Stan said in an injured tone. “We can take you anywhere, we can, 'cept underwater. Eleven Sickles, firteen if you're wantin' 'ot chocolate, fifteen for a-”

“I'm fine, just, er, just the trip, thanks,” Harry muttered, fishing out a Galleon. Stan counted out his change and then ushered him up the stairs, picking up his trunk and owl cage. “Er, don't lift that up,” Harry said when he saw Stan trying to peer under the robe still covering the cage.

Stan lowered the cage. “You wouldn't be carrying nothing illegal now, would you?”

“Of course not,” Harry said. 

“What 'choo say your name was?” Stan said suspiciously. 

“Theo Nott,” Harry said quickly, glancing out of the bus door to where he'd seen the dog. 

Stan followed his gaze. “'Choo looking at?”

“Nothing. Sorry to hold you up,” Harry muttered. He looked down the bus. Instead of seats, the passengers seemed to be reclining on beds, and the driver was sitting in an arm chair.

“Right 'choo are, Theo,” Stan said. He put Harry's things behind the driver's seat and gestured to the closest bed. “This is you. This is our driver, Ernie Prang. Ern, this is Theo Nott.” The elderly driver nodded at Harry, who quickly sat down on his bed and smoothed his hair over his forehead. 

“Start 'er up then, Ern,” Stan said as he sat in an armchair next to him.

There was another loud bang as the bus sped off and Harry was thrown against the pillow. He pulled himself upright and gaped out the window. They were no longer in Magnolia Crescent.

“This is where you flagged us down from. Somewhere in Wales, innit, Ern?” Stan asked. 

“Ar,” agreed Ernie. “We'll be in Abergavenny soon, Madam Marsh needs waking.”

“Right 'choo are, Ern,” Stan said. As he stood up, Harry saw a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ sitting on his armchair.

“Could I have a look at that?” Harry asked.

Stan handed it over as he made his way down the bus. Harry stared at the cover. There was a picture of Sirius Black, the convict from the Muggle news. Harry read the story as best he could on the bumpy bus. He finished as Stan escorted a ill-looking witch off the bus. 

“He murdered thirteen people with one curse?” Harry asked in horror.

“Nasty customer,” Stan shuddered.

“Why?”

Stan shrugged. “He was a Death Eater, weren't he? Was right after You-Know-Who snuffed it, 'spect he was just pissed off.”

Harry looked down at the picture again. Black was staring back at him through long, unwashed hair that hung past his gaunt cheekbones. “He murdered thirteen people because he was pissed off?” Harry repeated.

“Yep. And when 'ed done that, 'choo know what 'e did? 'E laughed,” Stan said. “Blew the whole street apart in the middle o' the day with witnesses and everything, and 'e stood there and laughed until the Aurors got there. And now 'e's out. No one's ever broken out o' Azkaban before, but 'e did it. Still, don't fancy his chances what with the Dementors after him.”

Ernie shuddered. “Change the subject, Stan, them Dementors give me goosebumps the collywobbles.” 

They fell silent at that. Harry looked out the window as trees and fences leapt out of the way of the speeding Knight Bus, trying not to worry about what was going to happen to him. He'd be expelled, he knew, but surely they wouldn't send him to Azkaban? He wished he had someone he could ask about wizarding law. Draco, or at least his mother, would definitely know, but they wouldn't be contactable for another week. How was Harry supposed to evade the Aurors for a week? He realised that maybe going to Diagon Alley wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't think of a way to ask Stan to drop him elsewhere without making him suspicious. He already didn't seem to believe Harry was telling the truth about his name. 

Harry was just thinking that maybe he'd be best to just jump off with the next passenger, when his shoulder was jostled. 

Stan was frowning down at him. “You deaf, Theo?”

Harry shook his head. “Sorry, I was daydreaming.”

“You 'ave arrived at your destination,” Stan said in his conductor voice.

Harry looked out the window at the Leaky Cauldron. “Right, thanks.”

The two of them carried Harry's things down the steps and set them on the footpath. “Thanks,” Harry said again.

Stan ignored him, staring over his head. Harry turned around in trepidation.

Before him stood Fudge. “Ah, there you are, Harry,” he said in relief.

“What'd 'choo call Theo, Minister?” Stan asked. Ernie was watching the scene from his armchair.

“Theo? No, this is Harry Potter,” Fudge said.

“I knew it!” crowed Stan. “Ern, hey Ern! Theo's 'Arry Potter! You can see the scar!”

Fudge frowned at him. “Yes, well, I'm thankful that he has been delivered here safely by the Knight Bus, but I really must take him inside now.”

Harry grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage. “Bye,” he said glumly to Stan and Ernie.

“Bye, Theo!” Stan called. Ernie waved over his shoulder. 

Harry followed Fudge into the Leaky Cauldron. At this time of night it was empty apart from Tom, the landlord, who appeared carrying a lantern.

“You found him, Minister! Do you want anything? Beer? Firewhisky?”

“Just a pot of tea,” Fudge said. “And a private parlour, if you would.”

Tom led them to a small room, lit the fire and bowed out the door. 

“Sit down, Harry,” Fudge said. He took off his cloak and draped it over a chair. 

Harry sat down nervously, looking around for the Aurors he knew must be there somewhere.

“Now, we weren't properly introduced earlier this year, but I'm Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic,” Fudge said.

“I know,” Harry said. Why was Fudge introducing himself politely? 

Tom walked back into the room, deposited a tray of tea and crumpets on the table and left, closing the door behind him. 

“Well, Harry, I can't tell you how happy I am to have found you safe and sound! Running away from your aunt's like that...” Fudge shook his head and poured himself a cup of tea. “Eat, Harry, you look half dead. Now, you'll be happy to learn that the Accidental Magic Reversal Department has dealt with the situation at Privet Drive. Miss Dursley has been deflated and had her memory modified. She has no recollection of the evening, so it's all well that ends well.”

Fudge beamed at Harry, who stared back.

“Ah, you're worried about your aunt and uncle? I won't lie, they were extremely angry, but they are willing to take you back next summer, as long as you spend the Christmas and Easter holidays at Hogwarts.”

“Of course I will,” Harry said slowly. 

“Well, then! All that remains is for you to decide what to do for the rest of your holidays! I suggest you take a room here, that way Tom can look out for you.”

“Aren't I in trouble?” Harry asked.

“Good heavens, no! It was an accident, and it's all sorted now,” Fudge chuckled.

“Last year I got a warning letter from the Ministry when a house elf – not me – used a Levitation Charm at the Dursleys',” Harry said warily. Something seemed very off to him. 

Fudge waved a hand. “Times change, and now... Well, given the circumstances... Don't tell me you want to be punished?”

“Of course not,” Harry replied.

“Well, then,” Fudge stood up and brushed his hands. “Let's consider the matter settled, then, shall we? Have some crumpets while I go and see if Tom has a room for you.”

Harry watched him walk out, utterly confused. He had no idea why the Ministry had suddenly changed its mind about his doing magic outside of Hogwarts, but he didn't trust it. He wished again that there was some way he could ask Narcissa what was going on. 

“Room eleven's free, Harry, I'm sure you'll find it suitable,” Fudge announced as he returned with Tom. “I just have one request of you, if I may. I'd prefer it if you stayed in Diagon Alley, and don't venture out into Muggle London. And return here before nightfall. Tom can keep an eye on you.”

“All right,” Harry allowed.

“Jolly good,” Fudge smiled before he left.

“If you'll follow me, Mr Potter,” said Tom.

He led Harry upstairs to room eleven, which turned out to have a comfortable looking bed and a bright fire burning in it. Sitting on top of the wardrobe was Hedwig.

“Hedwig!” Harry cried. She clicked her beak and fluttered down onto his outstretched arm.

“Very smart owl, she is, arrived just after you did,” Tom said. “If you need anything, just ask me.”

Harry sat down on the bed, stroking Hedwig. “I'm so glad to see you.”

Now that he had Hedwig, he could ask someone what the hell was up with Fudge. Draco was out; he didn't even know where he was, let alone if Hedwig could get there quickly. Hermione might know, and Hedwig seemed to get to her in France all right, but it would take her a while to get there. Maybe Theo or Tracey?

Harry hit himself in the forehead. “Hedwig, I'm so stupid! I just need to write to Snape. He'll know what's going on. You can get a letter to him, right?”

Hedwig gave him a disbelieving look. 

“Right, of course you can,” Harry muttered. He placed Hedwig on the foot of the bed and settled down to write.

_Dear Professor Snape,_

Harry looked at the parchment. Was that how he should address it? No doubt Draco would have some snide comment to make about his letter writing skills.

_Sorry to bother you over the holidays, but I need some advice and don't know who else to ask, as Draco's out of the country._

_Tonight I accidentally blew up my aunt and ran away from the Dursleys. I got the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron where I ran into Fudge, who was apparently out looking for me. I thought I was going to be arrested or something, but he's waved the whole thing off as an accident. Which it was, but last year I got an official warning when Dobby used a Levitation Charm at the Dursleys'. When I asked him why I wasn't getting in trouble, he just said 'times change'._

_He was acting really shifty, though, and I'm sure there's something I'm missing. Is something going on with the Ministry? He's also told me I need to stay here at the Leaky Cauldron, and not to go into Muggle London. Am I in danger? I know Draco would tell me I'm being paranoid but something seems really off._

_I'd really appreciate anything you could tell me._

_Sincerely,  
Harry Potter_

Harry re-read the letter and shrugged. It'd have to do. Hopefully Snape wouldn't be too mad about having a student pester him during his time off. Thankfully Harry was a Slytherin; he didn't think someone from another house would have the guts to write to Snape, let alone get an answer.

Harry gave the letter to Hedwig and carried her to the window. “Sorry to send you off just after you got here,” he said as he forced the stiff window open. Hedwig butted her head softly against his shoulder before launching herself out the window. Harry watched her disappear over the rooftops before he shut the window and decided to get ready for bed.


	2. In Which Snape Becomes Severus and Tells Harry the Truth About Black

After the night he'd just had, Harry slept like the dead. So he was a little confused when he woke up and his watch said it was only eight o'clock. He groaned and burrowed further into his pillow. He'd just closed his eyes when there was a knock at the door. He opened his eyes to glare at the door but didn't move. There was another, more insistent knock.

“Alright, I'm coming!” Harry put his glasses on and stumbled to the door and yanked it open mid-yawn. His jaw snapped shut when he saw who was standing in front of him. “Professor?”

“Harry,” Snape replied. His eyes travelled to the top of Harry's head and he smirked. 

Harry tried to smooth his hair down a bit. “What are you doing here?”

“I've come to get you of course,” Snape said. When Harry just stared at him he sighed and walked into the room, muttering something that sounded very much like “fucking Albus.”

Harry shut the door and leaned against it. “I didn't mean for you to come get me, sir. I just wanted to know what was going on.”

“And that's exactly why I'm here. Your lack of knowledge about certain events is appalling, not to mention downright dangerous. Gather your belongings and I'll explain once we're out of here.”

“Where are we going?” Harry asked as he started pulling some clothes out of his trunk.

Snape turned around so he could get changed. “Somewhere safe,” was all he said.

“You know, for someone who's insulting my lack of knowledge, you're not telling me much yourself, Professor,” Harry said.

“I am not telling you much while we're in a pub where any number of people could be listening to our conversation, no,” Snape said.

“Oh. Right,” Harry said. He balled up his pyjamas and shoved them in his trunk and gave the room a quick scan. “I'm ready.”

Snape turned around and pointed his wand at Harry's trunk. “Move aside,” he said, then shrank the trunk and cage. Harry picked them up and followed him out of the room. 

Snape led him through the main room and out into the little backyard of the pub. Instead of tapping the bricks to get into Diagon Alley, he held up his arm. “Have you ever been Apparated before?” 

Harry nodded and grabbed hold of Snape's arm. He held on tight as he was pulled through the constriction of Apparition. When he opened his eyes again, they were standing in a sunny field. The farm house and barn in front of them were the only buildings in sight. 

“Where are we?” Harry asked as they began walking to the house. 

“Just outside of Cerrigydrudion, in North-West Wales,” Snape replied. 

“You live in a farm house?”

“Did you think I spent my summers in the Hogwarts dungeons?” Snape asked in amusement.

“Er, I didn't really give it much thought.”

As Harry followed Snape through the field, he looked around him curiously. He certainly wouldn't have pictured Snape living anywhere like this. The house was at the top of a small hill, set in the middle of a moor. There were a few shrubs and trees dotted around, but apart from that the moorland was empty. Snape's property, on the other hand, was a riot of vegetation, surrounded by a low stone fence. Snape led him up a gravel path that wound through the chaotic plants. 

Snape unlocked the front door and walked through briskly, with Harry trailing behind him. He found himself in a large lounge room dominated by bookshelves. A tall fireplace took up most of one wall but was currently unlit, and there was a staircase along the opposite wall, next to the front door. There were large windows on each wall that let in the sunshine. 

“Stop dawdling,” Snape called. “I expect you want something to eat?”

Harry turned to find Snape standing in a kitchen that opened up onto the main room. “Yes, please.”

Snape pointed at the kitchen table and walked into what Harry presumed was the pantry. Harry sat down at the table and looked about him with interest. Like the lounge room, the kitchen had white-washed walls and scuffed floorboards. The kitchen was old-fashioned but very neat, and Harry immediately felt at home. 

Snape walked back into the kitchen with a loaf of bread and some honey. He sliced some bread and put it in a toaster, then turned the kettle on. 

“You have electricity here?” Harry asked in surprise. He'd never imagined any of his teachers would use it.

“It's more convenient than candles and fires,” Snape said. “My dad was a Muggle, and I grew up with it.”

“Oh, okay.”

“So you blew up your aunt, did you?” Snape asked as he started pulling dishes out of cupboards.

“Er, yeah. I didn't mean to.”

Snape shrugged. “I can't say Petunia didn't deserve it. I'm only sorry I didn't see it.”

Harry shook his head. “Not her, it was Aunt Marge. Uncle Vernon's sister.”

“Pity,” Snape said, sounding genuinely disappointed. “Did she deserve it?”

“Yes,” Harry said forcefully. “She was insulting my parents. The Dursleys were too scared of Narcissa's threats to mistreat me this summer, but she didn't know about that. We got into an argument and, well, I lost control. I freaked out that the Ministry was going to come arrest me, so I grabbed my stuff and ran off.”

“Straight into the arms of the Minister for Magic. Not the smartest move if one is seeking to avoid arrest,” Snape said drily.

“He was waiting for me at the Leaky Cauldron,” Harry said defensively. “How was I supposed to know?”

Snape put the toast on the table. “Have you had any contact with people from the magical world over the holiday?”

“Yeah, my friends,” Harry said as he started pouring honey on his toast. 

“Nothing from the Headmaster?”

Harry frowned in confusion. “No. Should I have?”

Snape put the tea things on the table and sat down heavily. “It would have been helpful. Harry, do you know why you're sent to the Dursleys' every summer?”

“They're my guardians.”

“Technically, they're not, actually. You're sent there because, as Lily's only living relative, Petunia's blood carries the protection of Lily's sacrifice. By living with her, even for a few months a year, that sacrificial protection is strengthened.”

“Alright. So who is my guardian then? Could I live with them instead?” Harry asked hopefully. This was the first he'd heard of any other guardian.

Snape grimaced. “Absolutely not. Have you heard about the escape of Sirius Black?”

“Yeah, on the Muggle news, and then in the _Daily Prophet_. What's that got to do with anything?”

“Quite a lot.” Snape paused and took a sip of tea. “He's your legal guardian.”

Harry stared at him. “ _What?_ But... But he was a Death Eater! He _murdered thirteen people!_ How can he be my guardian?”

“He was your father's best friend whilst at Hogwarts, and your parents named him as your guardian in their will. Obviously, they didn't know he was a Death Eater.”

“But that doesn't make sense! You were a Death Eater, but you switched sides when Voldemort went after my mum. Why didn't you say something about Black?”

Snape shifted uncomfortably. “I honestly didn't know. At the end of the war I was Dumbledore's spy amongst the Death Eaters, and I believe that Black occupied a similar position in reverse. Or perhaps he just had a late change of heart, I don't know. But he had a number of Death Eaters in his family.”

Harry mulled this over. “That makes sense, I guess. Er, about his family. He wouldn't be related to Draco, would he? He mentioned he was a Black a while ago.”

“Yes, Black would be Narcissa's cousin, I believe.”

“Okay. So, my real guardian is a murderer who was working for Voldemort, and I obviously can't live with him,” Harry summarised. “That doesn't explain what Fudge was doing.”

“It is the belief of the Ministry that Black is after you,” Snape said softly. 

“Is he?”

“I don't know,” Snape repeated. “No one is certain of Black's motives. Azkaban will almost certainly have driven him insane, and so he is likely to be unpredictable at best. Have you heard of the Fidelius Charm?”

Harry shook his head.

“It is a complex spell, but essentially, it is used to conceal a secret inside a single living person. When your family went into hiding, your parents performed the spell, and Black was made their Secret Keeper. That meant that the only way their location could be discovered was through Black divulging the information. The Dark Lord could have walked through their front garden and not noticed they were there. Black obviously betrayed them, leading the Dark Lord to seek out both your family, and his own eventual ruin. It's possible that Black feels some guilt over the Dark Lord's demise, but I don't believe him capable of the sentiment. He could simply be out to avenge the Dark Lord.”

“Let me get this straight,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “Black was my dad's best friend, he told Voldemort where they were hiding, leading to their murders, and now that Voldemort's gone, he's after me?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Harry felt a bolt of pure rage shoot through him. “Why now? Why's it taken him twelve years to break out of Azkaban?”

Snape shrugged. “It may have simply taken this long due to the difficulty of the task. He is the first break out Azkaban has ever known. The Dementors aren't taking it well.”

Harry felt a prickle of unease. “I keep hearing about these Dementors, but what are they?”

Snape refilled both their tea cups. “Picture the Muggles' idea of the Grim Reaper. Instead of carrying a sickle and transporting the dead to the afterlife, Dementors feed upon happiness, leaving those around them with an unshakeable feeling of dread. You will recall all the worst experiences of your life, and it takes a great amount of mental fortitude to break free of their hold.” He paused and took another sip. “They are also capable of administering what is known as the Dementor's Kiss, which is used to suck the soul out of their victim. They are left in a permanent state of catatonia.”

“And they guard Azkaban? Is the Ministry insane?” Harry asked.

“Probably,” Snape said in disgust. “In any case, I had hoped that the Headmaster had thought to warn you about Black's designs upon you once news of his escape became public, but obviously I was mistaken.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Well, thank you for telling me the truth, sir.”

Snape looked at him speculatively. “While you're staying with me, I would not be averse to you calling me Severus.”

“Yes, sir. Er, Severus,” Harry replied.

Severus nodded. “Now, if you're done eating, I'll give you a tour.”

The ground floor contained nothing more than the lounge and kitchen Harry had already seen. Severus led the way up the staircase, which led to a narrow corridor with four doorways. There was a bathroom with a claw-footed bathtub and toilet with pull-chain flush, and a bedroom that had been converted to a library. 

“This is my room,” Severus said, passing one closed door, “and this will be yours for the remainder of the summer.”

He pushed open the door to the last room, and Harry found himself in a study. There was a large desk set against the window, yet more bookshelves, and a single bed against another wall. Hedwig was sitting on the headboard.

“It's not much, but I trust it will suffice,” Severus said. 

“Are you kidding? I spent ten years in a cupboard, this is brilliant,” Harry grinned as he put his things on the desk.

“A cupboard?” Severus asked sharply.

Harry flushed as he explained about his old cupboard, and how Narcissa's threats had saved him from being returned there.

Severus' nostrils flared as he returned Harry's things to full their normal size. “Indeed. Well, Narcissa is to be commended, in that case. Now, I'll leave you to get settled in. I'll be in the garden once you're done.”

He swept out of the room, leaving Harry alone with Hedwig. He stroked her for a minute as he thought about the odd twist his summer had taken, before following Severus downstairs. 

He found Severus kneeling before a patch of parsley. A basket next to him held him a number of herb clippings. He must have left his black robes inside, as he was currently dressed in a pair of black pants and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Harry tried not to stare at the visible Dark Mark on his arm.

“Ah, good, you can help me weed the herb garden,” Severus said. 

Harry knelt down and set to work. Weeding for Severus was a lot more enjoyable than weeding the Dursleys' garden. For one thing, Severus had a much more interesting range of plants, some of which he wouldn't let Harry near due to their poisonousness, or their propensity to try to strangle anyone who ventured too close. For another thing, Severus didn't ask Harry to do anything he wasn't willing to do himself. Harry quite enjoyed Severus' conversation, which veered between explaining the properties of various plants and updating Harry on the latest news from the wizarding world, usually with scathing commentary on the people involved. 

“You are aware that you could just subscribe to the _Daily Prophet_ in order to keep abreast of the news, are you not?” Severus finally asked.

“And miss out on you insulting the paper as well as who it's reporting on? No thanks,” Harry said, wiping sweat off his forehead. 

Severus snorted. “As you will. We're done here. Go wash up for lunch.”

When Harry returned to the kitchen he found Severus preparing a salad. As he started washing the tomatoes he kept sneaking glances at Severus. Outside of Hogwarts in Muggle clothing, he looked much younger and happier than Harry was used to.

“Out with it,” Severus finally said.

“Sorry?” Harry started.

“What exactly do you find so fascinating?”

“I'm still just surprised that you live in a Welsh farm house,” Harry muttered.

Severus shrugged. “I like the area. Cerrigydrudion boasts one of the highest populations of native Welsh speakers. Since I don't speak the language, I'm mostly left alone by the locals. It's also suitably remote that I don't run the risk of being accosted by people I do know.”

Harry fidgeted. “I can go, if you want. I could stay with Theo or Blaise, maybe.”

“Believe me when I say, if I wished you gone, you would be,” Severus said. He gave the salad bowl to Harry and grabbed some plates. “You are rather more tolerable than the majority of people of my acquaintance.”

“Er, thanks,” Harry said in faint embarrassment, and put the bowl on the table and sat down. They ate in silence for a few minutes, with just distant birdsong coming through the windows. 

“I have to go out,” Severus said abruptly. “You can do as you wish, but stay on the property, and do not go into my bedroom.”

“Where are you going?” Harry looked up.

“I have to inform the headmaster of your whereabouts. If the Ministry expects you to be at the Leaky Cauldron, they'll undoubtedly conclude that you've been kidnapped when your absence is noted and embark on some idiotic course of action.”

“And you're going to get Dumbledore to sort it all out?” Harry asked with a grin.

Severus gave a small smile. “I have a few choice words to say to him, but yes, essentially.”

“Can I write to Hermione?”

Severus cocked his head. “I'm not averse to you letting her know you're staying with me, but don't mention where.”

“Sure, of course,” Harry said.

Severus nodded and stood up. “Remember, do not leave the property.”

After Severus picked up his cloak and left the house, Harry cleaned up the lunch dishes and returned to his room.

_Dear Hermione,  
Your present was brilliant, I love it. I don't care if it's authentic or not. I hope you're still enjoying France. You won't believe where I am._

_If you guessed I'm at Snape's, well, you're as big a genius as everyone thinks you are. No, I'm serious. You said you're getting the Daily Prophet delivered. That Black guy? Apparently he's after me, so Snape's brought me to his house for the rest of the holidays, for my safety._

_I can't tell you where he lives – he's more paranoid than I am, I guess. But I like it here. I'm allowed to do whatever I want, as long as I don't leave the property. It's been fun so far. He's actually told me the truth about what's happening, unlike Dumbledore or the Ministry. I helped him in the garden this morning. You'd love it. It's full of vegetables, herbs and potions ingredients, all mixed up. I'm not sure how but it works._

_He's gone off this afternoon to talk to Dumbledore. From what I can tell, he's pretty mad at him. I think Snape thinks I should've been told Black was after me, and I can't argue with that. Still, it means I get to stay here instead of the Dursleys'._

_I don't know if I'll be able to meet you or Draco in Diagon Alley. I'll try, but I guess it all depends on what Snape wants to do. Speaking of Draco, have you been in touch with him? He wrote to me on my birthday and then told me he'd be uncontactable for a while._

_Love,_  
_Harry  
PS. While I'm here, he's asked me to call him Severus. How weird is that? Kinda cool though._

********

  
“I give you leave to explore and you make it as far as my record collection?”

Harry's head snapped up. “Hi. Er, well, it's really good.”

Severus smirked as he hung his cloak on the pegs by the door. “Why am I not surprised that you like the Sex Pistols?”

Harry shrugged. “So what did Dumbledore say?”

Severus sighed and walked over to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of some amber liquid and sat down on the dark blue couch in the lounge room. “He is displeased that you're here, as he would prefer you to remain at your aunt's, but agrees that it is preferable to you staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the remainder of the holidays.”

Harry stared at him. “I don't have to go back there, do I?”

“Not until next summer, no,” Severus said. “What on earth are you doing?”

Harry was sitting on the floor with Hedwig's cage in front of him. He'd been trying to figure out how to get the _Monster Book of Monsters_ to behave like a proper book. He'd tried feeding it, splashing it with water, and even singing to it. 

“Trying to get this to stop attacking me. It's on my book list, so I assumed there has to be a trick to it. No one would tell us to buy a book that's just going to bite us, right?”

Severus gave him an odd look as he sipped his drink. “That depends on who the teacher is. I think last year's debacle with Lockhart shows that even the most incompetent of staff have free reign with their assigned texts.”

Harry glared at the caged book. “Great. Still, even if this thing bites my hand off, the teacher can't be any worse than Lockhart.”

“It's highly unlikely,” Severus agreed. “Besides which, you've already set a cage of Cornish pixies loose in his office. What else could you possibly do to a teacher you didn't like?”

Harry leaned closer to the cage so that Severus couldn't see his face.

“What did you do?” Severus asked in amused resignation.

Harry glanced at him. “It's not my fault if Lockhart used a depilatory potion instead of his hair potion. Or if Peeves threw all of his things into the lake.”

There was a beat before Severus burst into laughter. Harry stared at him. “I did have my suspicions about Lockhart's mysterious hair loss, but I never suspected the lake had anything to do with you.”

“I didn't do that!” Harry said truthfully.

“But you know who did.”

Harry said nothing. 

“I see,” Severus chuckled. “Well, hypothetically, I would be proud of any Slytherins who pulled off such an amusing feat of vengeance.”

“Hypothetically, they'd be pleased to hear that,” Harry responded.

Severus smirked and took another sip. “Incidentally, have you tried stroking the spine of that book of yours?”

Harry stared at him incredulously. “You want me to put my hand near that?”

“There are far worse things to be bitten by than a mere book,” Severus grumbled darkly, and drained his glass.

“Right,” Harry frowned. He turned back to the cage, and screwing up his courage, thrust his hand between the bars and gave the book a tentative stroke. To his surprise, it stopped snapping at him and opened placidly. “How did you know to do that?”

“The new Care of Magical Creatures professor told me about them. He seems to find them funny.”

“There's a new teacher? What's he like?” Harry asked. 

“You'll find out soon enough,” was all Severus said before he got up to refill his glass. As he sat back down, he gazed at Harry's book. “Have you purchased the rest of your school supplies yet?”

“No. Hagrid sent me this for my birthday, I haven't been to Diagon Alley. I was hoping to meet Draco and Hermione there in the last week of August.”

“Far better to go this week when it will be less crowded,” Severus replied. 

“I don't mind the crowds, I could go by myself,” Harry said quickly.

“What part of having an insane murderer after you do you not understand?” Severus asked in exasperation. “Black has to know that you'll need to go to Diagon Alley eventually. If he manages to get to Surrey and finds you missing, Diagon Alley's surely the first place he'd look for you.”

“How do you know that?”

Severus shrugged. “It's what I'd do.”

********

  
Severus Apparated them to the Leaky Cauldron after breakfast the next day. “Make sure your wand is within reach and stay alert,” Severus muttered as they walked through the pub.

“Yes, si - er, Severus,” Harry replied, feeling a flutter of apprehension.

He needn't have worried, as Black never made an appearance. It was also the first time Harry had been to Diagon Alley without everyone gawking at him. In his flowing black robes once more, Severus' glares were enough to make people think better than to stare at Harry. 

“It's not too late to change subjects, you know,” Severus commented as Harry asked the Flourish & Blotts salesman for a copy of _Unfogging the Future_.

“What's wrong with Divination?” Harry asked in confusion.

Severus picked up a copy of _Death Omens_ and flipped through it. “It is a highly subjective field, and unless you are a true seer, you will find it an exercise in futility.”

“How will I know I'm a seer or not if I don't take the class?” Harry asked with a sly grin.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Of course, the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Talk-to-Snakes is also a seer.”

Harry grinned at the returning salesman's expression. “Thanks,” he said as he took the book off him. “I also need _Intermediate Transfiguration_ , and _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three_.”

“What else do you need?” Severus asked as they left the shop. 

“New school robes,” Harry said immediately, fishing his list out of his pocket. “And... Potions ingredients.”

“Robes first,” Severus said.

At Madam Malkin's, Harry got fitted for his new robes as Severus paced impatiently by the window. Clothes shopping was definitely more fun with Draco and Narcissa, Harry thought, and stifled a grin. 

Twenty minutes later they were in the apothecary, and Severus relaxed for the first time since they'd entered Diagon Alley.

“Your assistance will be unnecessary,” he informed the shop assistant who came forward to greet them. She slunk back behind the counter and Severus led Harry over to the barrels of insects. “Never buy one of those pre-selected packages of ingredients they sell to students.”

“How come?”

“Because not only do they fill them with inferior ingredients, if you want to ever become an accomplished potions maker, you should be able to pick out the best ingredients for yourself.”

Harry quickly felt like he was back at Hogwarts as Severus lectured him on the ways to tell fresh beetle eyes from stale, how to pick out the most potent caterpillars, and choose the strongest unicorn tail hair.

“Don't I need more plants, too?” Harry asked as they walked up to the counter. “I know I'm low on dandelion roots.”

“Not from here, you don't,” Severus replied, just before the shop assistant arrived to serve them.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked a few minutes later, as he followed him out of the store.

“I grow all the most commonly used plants at home,” Severus explained, “and they're of a far better quality than what they sell here. I only ever buy the animal products here, and even then, I usually prefer to-”

Whatever Severus preferred to do, Harry never found out, as he'd stopped listening. He'd caught sight of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and the new broom displayed in the window. Harry squeezed through the crowd and read the sign. He was still staring at the Firebolt, when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He started and looked up.

“You have a broom already, Harry,” Severus said firmly.

“I know,” grumbled Harry. “But this one's _better_.”

Severus rolled his eyes and steered him back to the Leaky Cauldron. “You're already the best Seeker at Hogwarts. That broom would simply be an expensive form of overkill.”

Harry smiled at the compliment and shut up about the Firebolt.


	3. In Which Harry has a Very Informative Summer and Severus has a Visitor

The next few days were much like the first Harry had spent at Severus', and he quickly settled into the routine. He was pleased to learn that Severus wasn't a morning person, and didn't expect Harry to get up any earlier than he wanted to, either. After breakfast they would work in the garden, with Severus teaching Harry more about the plants they were handling. He'd never really thought about it before, but there was obviously quite an overlap of knowledge between Potions and Herbology, and after this summer, he had a feeling his Herbology marks would improve quite a bit. 

After lunch they sorted out what they'd harvested that day. Herbs and vegetables went into the kitchen, while potions ingredients were taken out to the barn, which turned out to have been converted into a potions lab. Harry was fascinated by it. He liked the Hogwarts Potions classroom, but that had been set up with students in mind. 

Severus had set up this lab with only himself to please, and the difference was striking. One wall held shelves that contained nothing but cauldrons. Harry had used an iron cauldron before, but most of the potions he'd made at Hogwarts had been brewed in a plain pewter cauldron. Severus had cauldrons of silver and bronze, delicate glass cauldrons, some tiny gold cauldrons, and even one gigantic one made of stone. 

Another wall held other equipment, such as stirring rods, ladles and scales, and instruments Harry couldn't even name, let alone discern the function of. The other two walls were covered in shelves that groaned under the weight of hundreds of jars of ingredients. A massive workbench, covered in burn marks and gouges, ran through the centre of the room. In one corner was a locked cabinet, which held the most dangerous, volatile ingredients. Severus refused to let Harry near it.

“Aren't you worried a Muggle might find it while you're away at Hogwarts?” Harry asked one evening, having again asked to see inside the cabinet.

“The property is warded. Muggles may pass through the gate, but unless I specifically invite them inside one of the buildings, they'll soon remember an urgent appointment elsewhere,” Severus said, then gathered up the dinner dishes and set them to clean themselves in the sink.

“Sort of like vampires,” Harry said, nodding. 

Severus stared at him. “If I didn't know that third year Defence covers vampires, I'd be worried.”

Harry grinned. “We're studying vampires this year? Cool.”

“You'll also be having a sexual education course with Madam Pomfrey,” Severus smirked.

“What?” Harry blurted. 

“Relax, it's not that traumatising,” Severus said in amusement. “You'll be separated by gender, so it won't be the whole year at once. One lesson a week about puberty, contraception and diseases. The course only runs for two months.”

At least he wouldn't have to sit through the class with the girls around, Harry thought. But two months! That sounded like they'd be going into things in some detail.

Severus cleared his throat. “I believe I have some books that may cover this, if you wish to acclimatise yourself beforehand.”

“Er, yeah, that'd be good, I guess,” Harry muttered.

“Very well. Bring me your Potions essay and I'll fetch them for you.”

When Harry returned with his essay he found Severus setting a teapot and two mugs on the coffee table. He'd lit the fire, and had put a record on. There was also a pile of books sitting on the table. Harry handed over his essay and picked up the first book. 

“I, er, I think I'll read these later,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat. He gathered them up and rushed upstairs without looking at Severus. Dumping them on the desk, he decided to get out his drawing supplies.

Severus was reading Harry's essay when he walked downstairs, looking for all the world like he hadn't noticed the mortified teenager flee the room minutes earlier. Harry silently sat on the couch, spread a sketchbook over his knees and set to work. 

Severus made an interesting subject, with his Roman nose and hard angles. Unfortunately, he was wearing a blue shirt that evening, and the drawing didn't look right to Harry. He started again, putting Severus in a black shirt. After a minute's deliberation, he drew in a smirk.

“Not exactly true to life,” Severus commented over Harry's shoulder. 

Harry looked up in surprise. He hadn't heard Severus move. “But it looks more like you now, I think.”

Severus gave a small smile and handed back Harry's essay. “This was sound, but I would not be opposed to you rewriting it if you wished to add what I've told you about daisy roots.”

“Thanks, I probably will.”

Severus nodded. “Very well then. Tea?”

********

  
The next morning Harry watched through the window as Severus met a farmer at his gate. They exchanged some parcels and then Severus returned to the house.

“Who was that?” Harry asked.

Severus set a crate on the kitchen table. “Jasper. I give him vegetables and herbs, and he gives me milk and eggs. And the odd Muggle newspaper,” he said, drawing one from the crate. “He's one of the few English-speaking people nearby who doesn't irritate me with endless questions whenever we speak.”

Harry hid a grin as he returned to putting the finishing touches on his Potions essay.

“I'll be in the lab if you need me,” Severus said after he'd put away the food.

Harry set his essay aside to let the ink dry, and pulled the newspaper towards him and flicked through it idly. There was another article warning the public about Black, and Harry skipped past it quickly. A few pages later his attention was caught by an ad for a Cardiff cinema. _Jurassic Park_ was showing there, and Harry desperately wanted to see it. He'd heard Dudley talking about it after he'd seen it with Piers Polkiss, but of course the Dursleys hadn't let Harry go.

Harry sidled into the lab clutching the paper. Severus was in the middle of decanting a potion. 

“What is it?”

“Er, I was wondering, er, if I'd be allowed to go see a movie?” Harry asked quickly. “ _Jurassic Park_ is playing in Cardiff.”

Severus paused. “Haven't you had your fill of monstrous killer reptiles?”

“Well, these ones need to do more than look at you to kill you,” Harry replied.

Severus corked the potion and carried the cauldron over to the sink. “Have you completed all of your holiday assignments?”

“Yes. I've just finished rewriting your essay,” Harry said hopefully. He watched as Severus cleaned the cauldron and set it to dry. 

“If you can brew a Shrinking Solution perfectly, I'll take you,” Severus finally said. 

Just over an hour later, they stood in a field looking at the sheep they'd just shrunk down into a lamb. Severus splashed a few drops of the antidote onto it, and it regrew back into its adult form.

“ _Jurassic Park_ it is,” Severus sighed. Harry grinned.

********

  
“Would you calm down,” Severus snapped as they waited in line.

“Sorry, I'm just excited,” Harry said. 

“One would think you've never been to the cinema before.”

“Er, I haven't,” Harry mumbled. “What, you think the Dursleys would take me?”

“Good point,” conceded Severus as he stepped up to the counter. 

The cinema was pretty full when they walked in, and they had to sit in the second row. Severus grumbled about that, but Harry didn't care. He had his popcorn and his Coke and he was determined to enjoy himself. 

“So what did you think?” Harry asked afterwards.

“I liked Professor Malcolm,” Severus replied.

“You would,” Harry laughed.

“Meaning?”

“Come on. A professor who dresses all in black and spends the entire movie telling everyone that they're idiots? There's a bit of a resemblance,” Harry responded. 

“He was the most sensible character in the entire movie,” Severus sniffed.

“That's not true, that South African guy wanted to kill all the velociraptors from the start,” Harry argued. 

“Whereas you would probably promise to free them,” Severus said with a smirk.

“Would not,” Harry countered. “I can't speak dinosaur.” 

There was a crack of thunder overhead, and they sped up as they headed for the alley they'd Apparated into. When they Apparated back to Severus' house, they found themselves in the midst of a downpour and ran for the door.

“I should have spent the morning in the garden,” Severus said sourly.

“Is there even that much left to do? It looks pretty good to me, and you've had me here to help,” said Harry.

“I just dislike being confined inside over the summer due to the weather. I get enough of that in Scotland,” said Severus as he put the kettle on. 

“Not for me, thanks,” Harry said when he saw Severus get out two mugs. “I'm going to go read in my room for a bit.”

“As you wish,” Severus shrugged.

Harry shut his bedroom door firmly behind him, then carried all the books Severus had given him over to his bed. He spread them out in front of him and considered them. _The Human Body_ looked pretty safe, so Harry started there, skipping through to the chapter on puberty. 

Some time later, Harry shut the last book and leaned back against his pillows. Some of what he'd read had been helpful, even cheering: he was looking forward to his promised growth spurts, for instance. On the other hand, he didn't think he'd ever be having sex after reading _Communicable Diseases_. There had been pictures that he'd struggled to make sense of, before they jolted into focus with horrifying clarity. Oozing sores should definitely not be found _there_ , he thought with a shudder. 

The book on sexuality had been interesting, though. Harry knew that the wizarding world was a lot more accepting of gay people than the Muggle world was, but it was something that had been weighing on his mind ever since Hermione had told him that Draco liked him. Neville had calmly asked him if he liked Draco back, and clearly saw it as no big deal. But after growing up with the Dursleys, Harry had a niggling fear that if he was gay, his friends would think him a freak. He'd tried not to think about it too much, but had decided enough was enough.

Harry shut his eyes and tried to imagine kissing Hermione. He'd hugged her before, of course, so he started there. So far, so good. But when he tried to imagine what her lips would feel like, his eyes shot open. He frowned and closed them again, this time trying to imagine what kissing Daphne might be like. Still no luck. 

Harry shut his eyes for a third time, and imagined what kissing Draco would be like. This time, his eyes stayed shut and his lips parted slightly. He felt Draco's lips ghosting over his own and breathed in sharply as he felt a tingling warmth in his belly. Just to make sure it wasn't just Draco who affected him this way, Harry moved on to imagining kissing Blaise. Definitely nice, but his mental image of Blaise turned back into that of Draco. 

Harry's eyes shot open once more and he pulled a book onto his lap when there was a knock on his door. “Dinner's ready,” Severus said through the door.

“I'll be there in a minute,” Harry choked out, sighing in relief when he heard Severus walking back down the stairs. 

He continued to sit on his bed for a few minutes. His little experiment might not mean anything, but somehow he doubted that. His mind drifted back to the last few times he'd shared his Invisibility Cloak with Draco, and the warmth returned to his stomach as he remembered the feeling of Draco pressed against his back. Harry shook his head to clear it and stood up. He smoothed his hair down, and hoped nothing showed as he went downstairs. 

He found Severus setting two bowls of pasta on the table. “I could've helped with dinner,” Harry said.

“I didn't want to disturb your reading,” Severus replied.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. 

“Is everything all right?” Severus asked suddenly.

“What? No, I'm fine,” Harry said, looking back at his bowl in embarrassment. Severus grunted softly but said nothing further. 

After dinner they retreated to the lounge. Severus sat in his usual chair reading, and Harry sat on the couch with his sketchbook on his lap, staring into the empty fireplace. He looked up when a cup of tea was held in front of him. 

“You have been uncharacteristically quiet all evening, and haven't drawn anything for the last hour,” Severus announced as he took his seat again. 

“What's in this tea? There's something spicy that I like,” Harry stalled.

“Cardamom infused Earl Grey, and don't change the subject,” replied Severus. 

Harry blew on his tea. “I read those books you gave me.”

“Ah,” Severus took a sip. “So what is it? The STDs?”

Harry grimaced. “I don't think that book needed pictures of them, but no.”

Severus didn't say anything, just sipped his tea and waited.

“I started thinking...” Harry trailed off and started doodling on his sketchbook. 

“Harry, I've been Head of Slytherin for over a decade, you cannot tell me anything I haven't already heard before,” Severus said quietly.

Harry took a deep breath. “I think I might be gay.”

Severus shrugged. “Well, you won't like hearing this, but you are young. You have plenty of time to figure that out one way or another.”

Harry stared at him. “But what if I am, and people hate me?”

“Why would – ah,” Severus paused. “Harry, the wizarding world is a lot more accepting of homosexuality than the Muggle world is. Which I assume is itself more accepting than the Dursleys?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, no matter what your orientation turns out to be, you won't be ostracised or persecuted for it in the wizarding world. There's nothing wrong with being homosexual, and anyone who tells you otherwise is clearly a moron and not worth your time,” said Severus matter of factly.

“So you're saying don't worry about it?” Harry looked at him doubtfully.

Severus nodded. “Exactly. You'll figure out your preferences in time, and apart from anyone interested in you romantically, I doubt anyone will even care.”

Harry nodded as he felt a weight lift off him. “Alright. And thanks.”

********

  
After his talk with Severus, Harry found himself thinking more and more about Draco. Hermione had told him that he needed to figure out if he liked Draco, and now that he'd been reassured that there was nothing wrong with that, that's exactly what he intended to do.

It was good that he had something to occupy his thoughts. The storm of the day before had continued through the night, and it didn't look like the rain would be easing up anytime soon. Confined indoors, Harry didn't have much to do. He continued to work his way through Severus' record collection as he spent the day drawing, and daydreaming about Draco. More than once, Severus had had to repeat himself to get Harry's attention. Lying on his stomach in front of the fire, Harry hoped the warm glow of the fire masked the colour in his cheeks.

“Your owl has returned,” Severus informed him as dusk was starting to fall. 

Harry looked up to see a very soggy Hedwig sitting on Severus' shoulder. He scrambled to his feet and held up his arm for Hedwig to sit on. “Do you have any meat I could give her?”

“There's some left over lamb casserole in the fridge,” said Severus.

Harry took Hedwig into the kitchen to feed her, then set her on the armchair closest to the fire. He blushed when he realised that he'd left his sketchbook open as he'd gotten off the floor. A drawing of Draco was clearly visible to where Severus sat in his chair. Harry quickly shut the book and smoothed Hermione's letter over the cover, hoping Severus hadn't seen anything.

_Dear Harry,  
Black's after you? Are you sure? Did Snape tell you why? I do hope you're alright. I'm glad that you're enjoying yourself at his house, however strange that seems. Still, he's nicer to you Slytherins than the rest of us, and he seems fond of you, in his own way._

_I'm coming home tomorrow, so if you can come to Diagon Alley, it'd be great to meet up with you. I had a letter from Draco informing me that his mother is taking him there on 30th August, so I'm meeting him then. He said to say hi to you; they're still travelling around the continent and he didn't think his owl would reach you in time._

_I was going to say that I've so much to tell you when I see you again, but it sounds like you've more to tell me. I can't wait to go back to Hogwarts!_

_Love,  
Hermione_

Harry wondered if it was worth it asking if he could meet his friends in Diagon Alley, but decided against it. Severus seemed to be taking the threat of Black very seriously, and he didn't want to annoy him when he still had a few days left to spend here.

“I take it Miss Granger is well?” Severus asked.

Harry nodded. “She's a bit worried about Black, but thinks I'll be fine here.”

“Good. I'm expecting a guest soon. Clear your artwork from in front of the fireplace.”

Harry knelt up. “Do you want me to go up to my room?”

“If that's where you wish to put your belongings,” Severus said.

“You don't want me to pretend I'm not here?” Harry asked.

Severus stared at him. “Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”

“The Dursleys,” Harry mumbled.

Disgust flashed over Severus' face. “Harry, your relatives are vile. I merely wanted you to clear a space in front of the fire, as Minerva will likely be arriving by Floo in this weather.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Harry put his things neatly on the coffee table and sat on Hedwig's armchair. “Wait, do you mean Professor McGonagall?”

“Yes. We meet up fortnightly during the summer, and it is her turn to come here,” Severus explained. 

Harry stroked Hedwig thoughtfully. This was certainly turning into a weird summer. He had an escaped criminal after him, and now he was going to be socialising with two of his professors. 

“What's Floo? I've heard it mentioned before.”

“A means of transportation. Throwing some Floo powder onto a fire renders it safe to step into the flames, and you can then travel to other fires connected to the Floo Network. It can also be used to converse with someone,” said Severus. He got up and went back into the kitchen to check on the stew. 

“Why would you use that instead of Apparating?” Harry called.

“It has no age restriction like Apparition,” Severus replied, “and is useful during inclement weather. Most homes are warded against someone Apparating directly into them.”

Harry nodded as he turned back to watch the fire. He'd much rather fly if he had the choice.

A few minutes later Harry started when the fire suddenly turned bright green. A spinning shape materialised inside the flames, and then McGonagall was stepping out into the lounge. She brushed her shoulders free of soot as she straightened up, and paused when she caught sight of Harry.

“Hello, Professor,” he said.

“Mr Potter. How unexpected,” she replied. They both turned accusing eyes on Severus.

“Did I forget to inform you of Harry's whereabouts?” Severus asked innocently, one corner of his mouth twitching. “He was unable to remain at his relatives' home for the summer, so when he wrote to me asking for advice, I decided to bring him here for his own protection.”

“Protection from what?” McGonagall asked.

“Sirius Black,” said Severus.

McGonagall shook her head sadly. “Sometimes I still find it hard to believe that he committed all those crimes. So you think he's after Potter, do you?”

“Yes,” Severus said immediately. “He showed himself willing to murder a teenager when he was sixteen; why would that have changed?”

“He may be remorseful,” McGonagall said, sitting at the table. “And the circumstances are rather different.”

Severus gave her an incredulous look as he got a bottle of wine out of the fridge and set it on the table. After a moment's hesitation, he put three wine glasses next to it.

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. “You're giving him wine, Severus?”

“Just a half glass.”

“Won't your aunt and uncle mind? Do they even know you're here?” McGonagall asked Harry.

“No. They'd probably just be disappointed I don't die of alcohol poisoning. And they don't care where I am, as long as it's not with them,” Harry said. 

McGonagall turned questioning eyes on Severus, who shook his head minutely. Harry ignored their silent conversation and started getting the dishes out for dinner. 

McGonagall cleared her throat. “Well, are you enjoying your summer then, Mr Potter? I expect you're looking forward to seeing your friends?”

Harry smiled at her, pleased at the change in subject. “It'll be good to see everyone, but I like it here, too.”

McGonagall made a small noise of agreement, then lapsed into silence as she watched Harry help Severus get dinner served. “You certainly seem to be comfortable here,” she said at last.

“Why wouldn't I be?” Harry asked. “It's much more fun than staying at the Leaky Cauldron alone.”

“Surely one of your friends would be pleased to have you,” McGonagall said.

“I'd feel rude inviting myself over anywhere,” Harry explained. “Except for Draco's, but he's out of the country with his mum.”

“How are the Malfoys doing after Lucius' arrest?” McGonagall asked. “I can't imagine it would easy for either of them.”

“Pretty good, I think,” Harry said. “Draco sounds okay in his letters. Narcissa's taken him to meet her sister and her family, and now they're travelling around Europe.” He didn't mention that Draco's letters seemed a little odd to him, and the conversation soon moved on. 

After dinner, McGonagall produced a bottle of scotch for herself and Severus. They moved back to the lounge room, where Harry was amused to find that these visits usually involved games of Scrabble. It soon became to clear to him that he had no chance of winning, and he enjoyed watching his two professors battling to come up with more obscure and high-scoring words and trading insults. 

“Is that really the best you can do?” Severus asked. Harry had just scored a measly six points.

“I can't think of anything. I have plenty of Parseltongue words I could put down, but that's not allowed,” Harry grumbled good-naturedly.

“Parseltongue?” McGonagall asked sharply. “I wasn't aware that there was a written language for it.”

“Draco's creating one,” Harry said proudly. “I've been teaching him Parseltongue, and he finds it easier if he can write things down.”

McGonagall leaned forward with interest. “Really? And how are the two of you getting on?”

There was no hope for Harry after that, as McGonagall kept distracting him by asking questions about Parseltongue, though her own game was unaffected. When she eventually won and Severus suggested another game, Harry decided to go to bed. 

“It was nice seeing you, Professor. Goodnight, Severus.”

Harry carried Hedwig upstairs and placed her in her cage; it was far too wet for her to want to go out hunting. She settled down happily as Harry got ready for bed. Pyjama-clad, he padded down the hallway to the bathroom, stopping when he caught a snatch of conversation from downstairs.

“Minerva...”

“You need to remember that he is not as his friends were,” McGonagall said quietly.

“You're blinded by house prejudice,” said Severus.

“I hardly-”

“Harry, I thought you were going to bed,” Severus called sharply.

“Just brushing my teeth,” Harry said, continuing on his way to the bathroom. On his return he heard nothing from downstairs. 

He lay in bed with his mind whirling. Who were they talking about? Clearly, it was something they didn't want him overhearing. Severus had told him the truth about Black; what would he want to hide from him? Harry rolled over and watched the rain hit the window, resolving to find out if he could.

********

  
Harry awoke the next morning and basked in the afterglow of a very nice dream. Maybe a little too nice, he thought, as he reached down to scratch himself and found a sticky mess. “Shit.”

He got changed out of his pyjamas and surveyed his bed. He'd have to wash the sheets. Hopefully Severus wouldn't ask him why. He stripped the bed quickly and stuck his head out the door. Severus' door was shut, like always, but he couldn't hear any movement from downstairs. As quietly as he could, he made his way to the kitchen and quickly put his sheets in the washing machine before going off to have a shower. 

Half an hour later Harry put the kettle on and sat down at the kitchen table in relief. His sheets were draped over kitchen chairs in front of the fireplace. He'd been momentarily worried when he couldn't find any matches – something he should have foreseen, given that Severus would have no need of them. Then he'd remembered what Draco had told him about the Trace not really working in the home of a magical adult, and lit the fire with his wand. 

“Is there a reason for the dripping sheets in the lounge?” Severus asked as he walked in, clad in a black dressing gown and pyjamas, and got a small potions vial from the pantry, downing it in one. 

“Too wet for the clothesline,” said Harry, getting up to turn off the whistling kettle and trying not to stare at Severus. This was the first time he'd left his bedroom in his pyjamas while Harry had been there, and Harry was finding it odd to be talking to a teacher in a dressing gown.

“Right,” Severus groaned as he sat down. “Could you make me a coffee? Black, no sugar.”

“Sure,” said Harry. 

He made Severus his coffee and a cup of tea for himself and set them both on the table. There was silence for a while as Severus sipped his coffee.

“You're hungover, aren't you?” Harry finally asked.

“I'm merely tired and thirsty,” said Severus.

“Uh huh. From staying up drinking scotch with McGonagall. Pretty sure that's a hangover,” grinned Harry.

Severus glared at him. “Will bacon and eggs shut you up?”

“Probably,” Harry said with a laugh. “I'll get it, you look like you better take it easy.”

He found everything he needed in the fridge, along with some sausages, and began frying it all as Severus grumbled about rude brats and Scots with freakish alcohol tolerances. He stopped when Harry put a plate in front of him and sat down with a grin.

“So why the urgent need to wash your sheets?” Severus eventually asked.

Harry chewed slowly before answering. “Well, I'm leaving soon, I thought I better get started cleaning my room.”

Severus nodded. “For future reference, you could try using _scourgify_.”

“Right, thanks,” Harry said, feeling his cheeks heat.

Severus levitated the dishes into the sink and set them to clean themselves. Harry walked up to his room; since he'd told Severus he was cleaning it, he'd have to start now. He'd only been here a couple of weeks but had managed to make quite a mess of the room. 

Half an hour later he had his loose drawings stacked neatly on the desk. He decided to return the books Severus had loaned him. When he descended the stairs he found Severus reading in his usual chair with a Led Zeppelin record playing. 

“Feeling better, then?” he asked.

“Of course. The potion I took was something I brewed myself.”

“Plus all that bacon,” smiled Harry. “Where do these go?”

“That shelf there,” pointed Severus. “I trust they were instructive?”

“Er, yeah,” Harry turned and started shelving the books. 

That done, he started browsing the rest of the bookcases. Severus certainly had an eclectic and wide range of books, with both wizarding and Muggle books mixed together in some system Harry couldn't figure out. Harry moved past the bookcase that held nothing but Potions texts and found one devoted to fiction which was sorted by author. On the top shelf was _Pride and Prejudice_.

Harry pulled it out and read the blurb. Like most classics, the blurb seemed to assume the reader knew what the book was about, so Harry flipped open the front cover and froze as his heart sped up. _Lily Evans_ was written in the corner of the title page. He traced it with a shaking finger before turning around.

“Why do you have my mum's copy of _Pride and Prejudice?_ Wasn't that her favourite book?” he asked slowly.

Severus looked up with a carefully blank face. “She lent it to me. We had an argument before I could return it to her.”

Harry frowned in confusion. “So why didn't you give it back after you made up?”

A look of pain flashed over Severus' face before it once again settled into blankness. “We never made up,” he said quietly. 

Harry stared at him. “What? Why? What did you fight about?”

“We had been arguing for a while, mostly about each other's choice in friends. She was highly critical of mine, and rightfully so since most of them became Death Eaters. And then one day...” Severus trailed off and sighed. “I called her a Mudblood. She never forgave me.”

“What's a Mudblood?” Harry asked, sitting on the couch. “I've heard it before but never had a chance to ask.”

“It is an offensive term for a Muggle-born. Do not ever let me catch you uttering it,” said Severus.

“Why would I? I'm a half-blood!” Harry said indignantly. “Come to think of it, so are you.”

Severus grimaced. “True, but I also planned on joining the Dark Lord from an early age. I hated my Muggle father, and did everything I could to distance myself from him. Calling your mother that was just one of many stupid things I did when I was young.”

“Did you try to apologise?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Of course I did. Unfortunately, that fight was the final nail in the coffin of our friendship,” Severus said bitterly.

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. “I'm sure she'd forgive you if she knew you now,” he said eventually.

Severus shot him a doubtful look but said nothing. Harry stood up abruptly. “Do you mind if I borrow this?”

Severus' gaze flicked from Harry's face to the book and back again. “You can keep it. I haven't been able to read it again.”


	4. In Which Harry Meets Luna and a Dementor on his way back to Hogwarts

Before Harry knew it, it was 1st September. He put on his uniform and gave his room one last glance to check he had everything before lugging his trunk and Hedwig's cage downstairs. He set them on the floor near the door and walked into the kitchen where Severus was finishing breakfast.

“I hope you have all your belongings, as I shan't be returning here for some weeks,” said Severus.

“All packed,” Harry replied.

“Good. I'll Apparate you to King's Cross in an hour,” said Severus as he left the room. 

Harry finished his breakfast and did the dishes before heading out into the garden one last time, despite the light rain that was falling. Aunt Petunia likely would have hated the busyness of it, but Harry liked the way the plants all crowded together. He walked around the perimeter of the property before heading back to his room. He double-checked nothing was left behind and went to wait in the lounge. The bookcases were a little bare; evidently Severus was taking quite a few of his books back to Hogwarts. 

Harry looked up when he heard Severus coming down the stairs. He was back in his billowing black robes, and Harry found it a little odd, having become accustomed to seeing him in not just Muggle clothing, but occasionally colour as well. 

“Ready?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

He picked up his trunk and Hedwig's cage and followed Severus out the door. He took a moment to lock it with his wand, then set off to the gate with Harry trailing behind him. 

“Severus?” Harry paused at the gate. “Thanks for taking me in this summer. I know you didn't have to, and I appreciate it.”

Severus smiled slightly. “Think nothing of it. I actually found I enjoyed the company.”

He held out his arm for Harry to grasp. A few seconds later they were standing on the bustling platform 9 ¾.

“Try not to get into any life threatening situations this year, Mr Potter,” Severus said.

“I'll try, sir,” Harry said.

Severus nodded and Apparated away. Harry dragged his trunk down the platform, looking for his friends. He hadn't gone far when he caught a glimpse of silvery blonde hair and made a beeline towards it. He found Hermione standing next to the Malfoys. 

“Harry!” Hermione gave him a hug. 

“Hi guys,” he said.

As soon as Hermione let him go he was grabbed by Draco. “I'm so glad to see you,” he said in Harry's ear.

“Me too,” Harry replied.

“I'm pleased to see you safe, Harry,” Narcissa said. “If I had known that my cousin had escaped I would have altered our summer plans.”

“Don't worry about it. I ended up staying at Snape's so I was pretty safe,” Harry reassured her.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow. “You stayed with Severus? Well, I'm glad someone was taking care of you.” She looked up when the Hogwarts Express sounded its whistle. “Harry, Hermione, have a lovely year. I need a moment alone with my son.”

They bid her farewell and went to find an empty compartment. Draco joined them a minute later.

“Not this one,” he said in the doorway. 

He led them a few doors down. To Harry's surprise, the compartment Draco had picked out already had an occupant: a man in shabby robes sleeping in the corner.

“This way no one will disturb us,” Draco explained as they lugged their trunks in. 

Hermione peered at the sleeping man's suitcase. “Professor R. J. Lupin. He must be the new Defence teacher.”

“I don't know, Snape told me there's a new Care of Magical Creatures teacher too,” Harry said doubtfully, before staring at the wicker cage Hermione was carrying, which had started hissing. “What's in there?”

Hermione beamed as she opened the cage and pulled out a large cat. “This is Crookshanks. My parents gave him to me for my birthday.”

“You're aware that's part Kneazle, right?” asked Draco. “They can be pretty aggressive.”

“Nonsense, Crookshanks is harmless,” Hermione cooed at her pet. Harry wasn't so sure. Whether or not Crookshanks was part Kneazle, he was definitely the largest cat Harry had ever seen. He had a squashed in face and looked decidedly grumpy, though he had started purring as he settled on Hermione's lap. Hedwig and Thoth were watching him warily. 

Draco shrugged. “Don't say I didn't warn you. Now, Harry, tell us everything. What was Snape like over summer?”

“He was fine. He took me to see _Jurassic Park_ , let me go through his record collection and then he got drunk with McGonagall. You know, the usual,” Harry said with a straight face.

“He did _not_ get drunk with McGonagall,” declared Draco.

“What music does he like?” Hermione asked at the same time.

“Okay, well, I don't know that for sure, but he was pretty hungover the morning after she visited,” conceded Harry. “And, er, mainly seventies rock.”

Draco and Hermione looked at each other. “Sounds like you had a good time,” Draco said.

“Yeah, I did actually. Well, apart from finding out that there's an escaped convict after me.”

“Yes, about that,” began Draco. “Mother has told me to look out for you.”

“What, because he's related to you?” asked Harry.

“Partly, I think. Mostly because she knows that I'm usually the one encouraging you to get into trouble,” Draco said. “But really, how's Black going to get you at Hogwarts? All the Aurors and Dementors are after him, and assuming he even gets to Hogwarts, he still has to get in somehow.”

“Did Snape tell you why Black's after you?” Hermione asked.

“He's not sure. He thinks it's because Voldemort disappeared after he tried to kill me and Black wants revenge, but he also said he's probably crazy after Azkaban, so who knows?” Harry shrugged. “Can we stop talking about this now? How were your summers?”

Hermione perked up. “It was brilliant. I was a bit disappointed we couldn't go visit Beauxbatons – it's a French magic school,” she explained when Harry looked at her blankly, “but apparently they keep its location hidden from everyone, not just Muggles. And we spent time in Muggle Paris as well, and visited the Louvre and all the tourist sites-”

Harry tuned out a bit as she started describing some of the historical sites she'd been to. People were running up and down the corridor, and he waved at a few friends he saw, but no one seemed keen to join them in a compartment with a teacher in it. Outside the rain had gotten heavier, and it was getting dark very early. 

“-I never knew that about Joan of Arc, so I bought some books on the subject,” Hermione finished. “What about you, Draco?”

“Well, most of my summer was spent with my Aunt Andromeda. She was disinherited by Mother's family because she married a Muggle-born, and Mother's never even mentioned her to me before now. She has a daughter, Tonks, who I got along with.”

“Your cousin's called Tonks?” Hermione asked.

Draco snorted. “Her real name is Nymphadora, which she hates, so she goes by her surname. Aunt Andromeda should have stuck to naming babies after stars, like the rest of the family. Anyway, Tonks is a trainee Auror, and a Metamorphmagus.”

“What's that?” asked Harry.

“She can change her appearance at will. She's currently got bright blue hair, much to my aunt's annoyance, but my uncle doesn't mind it,” explained Draco. “Anyway, after we stayed with them for a while, Mother and I went to Europe. We visited Romania first, to tour all the old castles Vlad Dracula lived in. You should hear some of the nonsense the Muggles have come up with about him! Then we went to Italy for sight-seeing and shopping.”

“Sounds fun,” smiled Harry.

“Yes, well...” Draco hesitated. “When we were in Florence, Mother became rather well acquainted with an Italian prince of some sort.”

Hermione bit her lip. “When you say well acquainted -” 

“I mean she had an affair with him, yes,” sighed Draco. “I mean, I don't really care; as far as I'm concerned my father has no claim to either of us at this point, and the man was nice enough, I suppose.”

“So what's the problem?” Harry asked.

“Dobby, actually,” Draco rolled his eyes. “I told you he's gone crazy since Mother freed him. He found the whole thing romantic and kept covering the hotel room with rose petals and chocolates.”

Harry and Hermione burst out laughing.

Draco narrowed his eyes. “It's not funny! Mother thinks he's cute so she just lets him carry on and then just banishes the lot after he's gone. And the clothes! She gave him one of my old suits when she freed him, but he keeps buying random things he likes and trying to wear them all at once. When we left this morning, he was wearing a pair of checked pyjama pants with a hideous jumper I swear he found in some old lady's closet, and sparkly plastic sandals!”

Harry and Hermione's laughter increased. “That is adorable,” gasped Hermione.

Draco sighed. “Mother's given the rest of the house-elves new pillowcases to wear, but I swear if she starts freeing them too we'll be having a talk.”

They spent the rest of the morning chatting. Draco bought half the sweets off the trolley when the lunch witch came to their compartment, and all three of them soon fell into a lassitude afterwards.

They perked up again as they realised the train was slowing down. “We can't be there yet, surely?” asked Hermione.

Harry tried looking out the window, but it was now almost completely dark outside. “I can't tell.”

The train stopped with a lurch and the lights went out. “Don't tell me we've broken down,” groaned Draco in the dark.

“There's something happening outside,” reported Harry from the window. “It looks like someone's coming on board.”

“In the middle of nowhere? We're not even at a station,” said Hermione.

They looked up when they heard the compartment door opening. “Who's that?” asked Draco.

“Ginny,” came a voice. “Sorry, I was looking for my brothers.”

“It's alright,” said Harry. “What's happening outside?”

“No idea, it's too dark to see anything,” replied Ginny.

“It could be an umgubular slashkilter,” came an unfamiliar voice. 

Ginny sighed. “This is Luna Lovegood.”

“What's an umgubular slashkilter?” asked Harry.

“They're a Dark creature,” began Luna, “known for preying on travellers. They've sabotaged the train, I expect.”

There was a short silence, then Hermione muttered “lumos.”

Her wand lit up the compartment, and Harry was able to take in the scene. He was sitting next to Draco, with Hermione sitting between Ginny and Lupin on the opposite seat. Standing in the doorway was a girl with long, straggly blonde hair and wide grey eyes. She appeared to be wearing radishes from her ears. 

“I'm going to go ask the driver what's going on,” declared Hermione.

“Oh, the umgubular slashkilters will have gone for the driver first,” said Luna. 

“Quiet,” came a raspy voice, and they turned to see Lupin had finally woken up. “Stay where you are.”

He moved to the doorway, but it opened before he reached the handle. Harry felt a vicious cold sweep over him as he stared at the figure in the doorway, and he quickly yanked Luna away from it. She fell back onto the seat next to Draco with a quiet grunt. 

They all stared at the thing in the doorway. It was tall, nearly reaching the ceiling, and covered in a tattered black robe. It had one grey hand clutching its robe, and Harry had a horrible thought that it looked like something dead and rotten. He looked up at its face, but couldn't see anything as it was hidden by the thing's hood. It gave a rattling breath, and Harry's last thought was that it seemed to be trying to suck all the air out of the room. 

He couldn't breathe properly as the cold seemed to settle inside of him. There was a rushing sound in his ears and he felt like he was falling into darkness, but he couldn't see anything. Cold dread was the only thing he was aware of, until the screams came. A woman was screaming and sobbing, and Harry wanted to help her but he couldn't see her, couldn't even _move_ , and surely he would be stuck here forever in this horrible place - 

“Harry, wake up! Please wake up, you prat!”

A sharp slap on his face jerked him back into consciousness. He opened his eyes to find himself looking up into Draco's worried face. Behind him was the ceiling, and Harry realised he was lying on his back on the floor. 

“I'm alright,” he muttered in embarrassment as he tried to sit up. 

Draco helped pull him to his feet. Harry looked around to see Hermione with her arm around a shaky Ginny as they spoke quietly to Luna, who had tears on her face. 

“What _was_ that?” Harry asked.

“A Dementor,” Lupin said. He took out a large slab of chocolate and began breaking it up before handing it out to them all. “Eat that, it will make you feel better. I need to go speak to the driver.”

Harry sat back down clutching his chocolate as Lupin left the compartment. “Who screamed?”

“No one screamed,” said Draco, who was incredibly pale. 

“But I heard screaming,” said Harry in confusion. “What happened?”

“The Dementor was making this horrible sucking noise,” Draco shuddered, “and you fell onto the floor and lay there jerking around. Luna was crying and Ginny was shaking and Hermione looked like she was going to faint. Then Lupin pointed his wand at the Dementor, said 'Sirius Black isn't here', and shot some silvery stuff out of his wand. The Dementor didn't like that, so it left, thank fuck.”

“I felt like I'd never be happy again,” Ginny said quietly.

“But no one else fainted?” asked Harry.

“No,” Draco said slowly. “But I think I would have preferred that. All I could think of was the end of last spring, when Hermione was Petrified and you'd been taken into the Chamber of Secrets.”

“I kept seeing my mother die again,” Luna said softly, taking a bite of chocolate.

Harry hesitantly reached out and rubbed her shoulder, and she smiled at him. “Snape told me that they make you remember all the worst things you've ever gone through,” he said slowly. “They feed on happiness.”

They looked up as the door opened again and Lupin returned. “We'll be in Hogsmeade in ten minutes. You really should eat your chocolate, you know. You'll feel much better.”

Harry took a small bite and immediately felt better as he felt warmth returning to his body. They were quiet for the remainder of the ride. Harry sat thinking about what had just happened. He couldn't remember ever hearing someone scream like that. It was the sort of sound that would be hard to forget, though, so he was probably quite young when he heard it. He had a sick feeling he knew what that meant.

When they disembarked at the station they were immediately drenched by the rain. They managed a quick wave at Hagrid as they ran to get inside one of the horseless carriages that would take them to Hogwarts. Ginny went off to join her brothers, but Luna seemed content to stay with them. 

All four of them sat shivering in the carriage as it splashed its way to the school. At the gateway to Hogwarts, the winged boar statues on either side of the gate were towered over by two more Dementors. Harry shrunk closer to Draco as they passed through the gate, feeling cold dread once more, but luckily didn't faint again. 

The carriage came to a stop in front of the castle and they dashed through the rain into the Entrance Hall. Harry was following the crowd into the Great Hall, which looked especially warm and inviting tonight, when he heard his name. He looked across the crowded hall to find Severus waiting for him. 

“Come with me, Mr Potter,” he said. “ _Not_ you, Mr Malfoy.”

Harry shared a confused look with Draco before followed he Severus down the stairs and into his office. Severus sat down behind his desk and motioned Harry towards his usual chair. 

“I suppose I should be thankful you didn't run into danger whilst staying at my home,” he sighed.

“How did you -”

“Lupin owled the school to inform us that you had an adverse reaction to the Dementor on the train.”

Before Harry could reply there was a knock on the door, and Pomfrey walked in briskly. 

“I'm fine!” Harry protested.

“What have you done this time, Mr Potter?” Pomfrey asked. 

“There was a Dementor on the train, Poppy,” Severus explained, exchanging a grim look with Pomfrey.

“What the Ministry's thinking, setting Dementors around a school like this,” tutted Pomfrey as she felt Harry's forehead and took his pulse. 

“I doubt they're thinking at all,” sniped Severus. “Does he need to go to the hospital wing?”

“I'm _fine_ ,” repeated Harry.

“You need to have some chocolate at the very least,” said Pomfrey.

“Professor Lupin gave us some on the train.”

“Did he now? Well, I'm glad we've finally got a Defence teacher with a basic understanding of first aid,” said Pomfrey approvingly. 

“Is he fit to go to the feast?” asked Severus.

Pomfrey raked sharp eyes over Harry before nodding. She handed Harry some more chocolate and walked out of the office muttering angrily to herself. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut. 

“Sev – er, sir?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Severus is fine,” said Severus as he dropped his hand.

“Right. Well, on the train, Lupin made the Dementor leave by shooting some silvery stuff from his wand.”

“That would be the Patronus Charm,” nodded Severus. “It is the only known defence against Dementors.”

“Okay. Well, is it something I can learn?” Harry watched him hopefully and nibbled his chocolate.

Severus frowned at him thoughtfully. “It is highly advanced magic, Harry. But I am willing to teach you. Of course, I have my usual classes to teach, and detentions... Some of our lessons may have to take place on Hogsmeade weekends.”

“That's fine,” Harry said at once.

Severus looked at him suspiciously. “You didn't get your form signed, did you?”

“Blowing up my aunt sort of made my uncle change his mind about the whole thing.”

“Good. I hardly need point out to you how dangerous visiting Hogsmeade could be with Black on the loose,” Severus raised an eyebrow. He stood up when Harry nodded, and they walked out of the office. “Very well. I'll let you know when our first lesson shall take place. In the meantime, you might do well to have Miss Granger find you a text that describes the theory behind the charm.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said.

When they reached the Great Hall Harry headed straight for Draco, squeezing in between him and Pansy. He'd just said a quick hello to everyone when Dumbledore got to his feet and the school fell silent. 

“Welcome back for another year at Hogwarts! I have some announcements that I would like to get out of the way before you all tuck into our excellent feast.” Dumbledore looked around the room as his smile faded. “As you are no doubt already aware, this year Hogwarts has been sent a number of Dementors, who are here under orders of the Ministry of Magic. They are stationed around the perimeter of the school grounds, and as such, no one is permitted to leave Hogwarts without permission. Dementors cannot be bargained or plead with, and will not be fooled by any disguises. I ask each and every one of you not to give them any excuse to harm you. Our Prefects and Head Boy and Girl will assist staff in making sure no students are threatened by them.”

Pansy nudged Harry and pointed down the table at Gemma. She saw them looking and pointed at a shiny new badge pinned to her robes. Harry grinned back at her and gave her a thumbs up. He couldn't think of anyone who would make a better Head Girl.

“Now that you have all been warned about the Dementors, I can happily announce that we have two new teachers this year. The first is Professor Lupin, who has taken the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There was scattered applause through the hall as Lupin waved a hand, although those who'd been in his train compartment clapped hard.

“Snape looks like he's a second away from jinxing him,” murmured Draco as he clapped.

Harry looked at Severus, who sure enough, was glaring malevolently at Lupin. None of the other teachers seemed displeased by him, and Harry watched as McGonagall smiled and leaned over to say something to Lupin.

“I think I know what that's about,” Harry said slowly to Draco. “I'll tell you later.”

Draco pouted at being told he'd have to wait, as Dumbledore continued. “Our second appointment this year is for the post of Care of Magical Creatures professor. Unfortunately, Professor Kettleburn retired after last year, in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. It is therefore with great pleasure that I can tell you his position will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid. Professor Hagrid will be taking on the teaching position as well as retaining his role as gamekeeper.”

The applause was much louder for Hagrid, particularly at the Gryffindor table. Harry grinned at Draco as they clapped.

“Well, that explains that vicious fucking book,” Draco said with a laugh.

“That thing scared the hell out of Goliath until I managed to tie it shut,” said Millicent.

Pansy giggled. “Your cat is such a coward.”

“You'd be scared of that book too if it was as big as you were,” Millicent argued. 

“I don't think anything has ever been so misnamed as that runt of a cat,” said Pansy.

“Er, guys? All you need to do is stroke the spine of the book,” cut in Harry.

There was silence as heads swivelled towards him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Blaise eventually asked. “I had to get my mother to use a Freezing Charm on that thing so we could clamp it shut, and all I had to do was _stroke it?_ ”

“You're lying,” Pansy declared.

Harry shrugged. “Snape told me. If if you don't believe me, fine, live with a book that tries to bite you. Mine's perfectly okay now.”

“Is that what you and Snape were talking about before the feast? A book?” asked Theo dubiously.

“No, he told me over summer when I was at his house.”

“Now I know you're lying,” said Pansy.

“Yeah, prove it,” Theo agreed.

Harry laughed. “Just go ask him.”

They looked up at the staff table where Severus was ignoring Flitwick in order to glare at Lupin. 

“Let's not do that,” Daphne said swiftly. The others nodded their agreement and soon the matter was forgotten as the food arrived.

Blaise was entertaining the group with a story of how the two Muggle girls he'd been seeing over summer had turned out to be sisters. Once they'd found out they were seeing the same boy, they'd joined forces and dumped him. 

“So then I went to see both of them separately and convinced them both to get back together after saying it needed to be kept secret so as not to hurt the other's feelings,” he concluded smugly.

Pansy stared at him. “You are unbelievable.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn't a compliment.”

“I hope you broke up with them nicely before you came back here,” said Daphne. 

“I did, actually,” Blaise said proudly. “I set them both up with some Muggle boys who moved in next to their house. They were all happy last I saw them.”

Daphne looked surprised. “Well... Good job, I suppose.”

When the feast finally finished, Harry and Draco went up to speak to Hagrid. 

“Congratulations,” beamed Harry.

“All down to Dumbledore,” said Hagrid. “Soon as Kettleburn said he'd had enough, Dumbledore came straight to see me. Great man, Dumbledore.” 

He blew his nose on his napkin and McGonagall shooed them away. They found the entrance to the common room deserted, as everyone had left well before them. 

“ _Open up_ ,” hissed Harry.

“God that's useful,” said Draco as they walked through the entrance. 

They found the common room as crowded as it usually was for the first night back, as people caught up with their friends. Draco dragged Harry over to speak to Gemma.

“Congratulations on getting picked for Head Girl,” said Draco.

“Thanks!” Gemma beamed at them. “It was a bit of surprise, actually. Slytherins aren't chosen very often.”

“Who else would they choose?” asked Harry.

“Oh, that's sweet,” said Gemma. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” said Harry, the same time Draco said, “Don't quit the Quidditch team.”

Gemma laughed. “Sorry, Draco, but I want to focus on my studies this year. Plus Head Girl responsibilities are even more time consuming than Prefect duties. I'm sure you'll find someone else who plays nearly as well as I do.”

Draco huffed. “Not likely. Say, who's the Head Boy?”

“Percy Weasley,” said Gemma unhappily.

Draco shuddered. “God, he's even worse than Hawthorn. Don't you think you'll need the stress release of hitting Bludgers at people to cope with him?”

Gemma laughed again. “Nice try, but I'm sure I'll be fine. You two should be getting ready for bed.”

“It's like she doesn't want us to win the Quidditch cup this year,” grumbled Draco.

“You know that's not true,” laughed Harry. 

He pushed open the door to their dorm and loud laughter met their ears. They walked in to find Blaise, Greg and Vince standing in a large circle. Two copies of the _Monster Book of Monsters_ were fighting with each other in the middle of the circle, with torn out pages floating through the air. Theo was sitting on his bed inspecting another copy that was lying placidly on the covers. 

He looked up when they walked in. “I didn't think you were telling the truth.”

Harry shrugged. “Why would I lie about that? One of you could've gotten hurt.”

“I think that's what he thought your intentions were,” Draco said drily. “Anyway, don't you have something to tell me?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Let me get changed first,” said Harry. 

He got into his pyjamas and sat on his bed. A pyjama-clad Draco joined him a few minutes later and pulled the bed curtains shut. 

“So you have gossip for me?” Draco asked expectantly as he settled back against the headboard. 

“I think so...” Harry said, before telling Draco about the conversation he'd heard between Severus and McGonagall over the summer. 

“And you think they were talking about Lupin?” Draco asked. “Why?”

“Well, Snape seems to hate Lupin, and McGonagall either likes him or doesn't have a problem either way. Whoever they were talking about must have been a Gryffindor, right?”

Draco nodded slowly. “That's the only part that makes sense so far.”

“Last year, Ollie said something that made it sound like Snape got picked on by some Gryffindors when he was at school. What if Ollie was talking about Lupin's friends?”

“And you think McGonagall was trying to reassure Snape that Lupin working here wouldn't be that bad, because what, he wasn't a dick like his friends?” Draco asked sceptically. 

“Exactly,” nodded Harry.

“I suppose that makes sense, but I'd hardly call it scintillating gossip,” said Draco dismissively.

“That's because I haven't gotten to the point yet,” said Harry. “If Lupin and Snape were in the same year when they were at Hogwarts, then that means Lupin knew my parents – and Sirius Black.”

Draco stared at him. “Maybe. I can write to Mother if you like, she'd know.”

“That'd be great, thanks,” smiled Harry.

Draco hesitated for a bit, then said, “You know, if you're right, that means your father was likely one of the Gryffindors who targeted Snape.”

“I didn't think of that,” said Harry slowly. “Makes sense, though. Snape has told me a lot about my mum, but he's never really spoken about my dad. He wouldn't want to, would he, if they'd hated each other at school?”

“Welcome to the My Father's an Arsehole Club,” Draco said bitterly. “Though mine's still worse.”

Harry shifted so that he was facing Draco. Trying to ignore how close their faces were, he said, “I've been meaning to talk to you about that. How have you been? And don't brush me off by complaining about Dobby.”

Draco bit his lip. “I'm fine.”

Harry reached out and knocked Draco's hand with his own. “I can tell you're lying,” he said softly.

Draco shot him an annoyed look before he smiled slightly. “Prat,” he huffed. “Fine... It's not the fact that my father's gone, exactly. He was never the most affectionate father, and I've always been much closer to Mother.”

“So what is it then?”

“What if I turn out like him?” Draco whispered.

“You won't,” Harry said confidently.

“You can't know that,” Draco shook his head. “Mother's family had a number of Death Eaters in it, and everyone always says I'm so much like my father. With so many relatives who went bad, how can you say I won't?”

“Because I _know_ you,” Harry said. “You're nothing like your dad. He always creeped me out, and you definitely don't.”

“I look exactly like him,” argued Draco.  
.  
“So? I look exactly like my dad, but we're not the same person. We didn't even get sorted into the same house! Besides, I think you look more like your mum. You have the same smile.”

“I don't smile that often.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Stop arguing with me! You're nothing like your dad, and that's that, got it? And you're not going to turn bad, because I won't let you. You know how stubborn I can be.”

“How would you stop me?” 

“I'd write to your mum, of course,” smirked Harry.

“I'll be good,” Draco said swiftly.


	5. In Which Hagrid Begins Teaching and the Slytherins are Traumatised by a Boggart

As Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, he looked up at the ceiling to see what the weather was like. It was still overcast, but the driving rain of the day before had disappeared. This turned out to be a very good thing, for when he looked at his new class schedule, he had Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures that day, both of which were held outside the castle. 

“Double free on Monday mornings,” he crowed to Draco.

“Yes, but it's our only free for the entire week,” said Draco, looking at his schedule.

“At least you guys get a free,” Tracey said. “Theo and I don't.”

Pansy shrugged. “That's your own fault for taking so many extra classes. You should embrace slacking off once in a while.”

“Maybe you should try _not_ slacking off once in a while,” Tracey retorted. 

“I see no reason for that,” Pansy replied.

As Tracey rolled her eyes, a small girl sidled up behind Daphne and tapped her on the shoulder. Daphne twisted around and smiled. “Astoria! How are you liking Hogwarts so far?”

“It's fine,” Astoria said. “But can you tell me how to get to the History of Magic room? It's my first class and none of us know where it is.”

“Of course. Come find me in the common room after breakfast and I'll take you,” said Daphne. As Astoria walked off to join the other first years Daphne pierced Blaise with a hard look. “Stay away from her, Zabini.”

“What'd I do?” he asked indignantly.

“I know how you treat most of the girls you date, and you're not going near my sister,” she said.

“As if I'd go near a first year,” Blaise scoffed. When Daphne continued to glare at him, he sighed. “All right, all right, I won't date your sister.”

“Make sure you don't,” Daphne said ominously as she left the table. 

Blaise whistled and grinned at the others. “Bit over protective, isn't she?”

“Can you blame her?” Millicent asked. 

Blaise looked at the other boys for support.

“Don't look at me,” Theo muttered. 

“I'd back Daphne over you in a duel any day,” shrugged Draco. Harry nodded.

“Whatever,” Blaise said. “I'm more interested in one of the Gryffindor Chasers, anyway.”

“Which one?” Harry asked.

Blaise just shrugged. “I'm not fussy.”

“You are aware that girls talk, and Hogwarts has a finite number of us, yes?” Pansy asked. “Piss off enough of us and you won't find anyone willing to go near you.”

“And that's why I intend to always be nice to you, oh Queen of Gossip,” Blaise said, and put an arm around her. 

“Ugh, you can start by getting off me,” Pansy said.

“As you wish,” Blaise said with a winning smile. Pansy ignored it and went back to her breakfast, and soon Blaise left for Arithmancy with Theo and Tracey.

“What do you want to do?” Harry asked Draco.

“I need to write to Mother, remember?” he asked pointedly.

“Oh yeah,” muttered Harry.

“You're spending our free telling me all about your summer with Snape,” said Pansy bossily. Unable to think of an excuse quick enough, Harry grudgingly agreed.

When they returned to the common room Harry was confused to see Flint sitting near the fireplace.

“I thought Flint graduated last year?” he asked Pansy.

“Shh!” she giggled, and pulled him down the corridor to the girls' dorm. 

“Okay, spill,” he said in amusement.

“Well!” Pansy said relish as she flopped onto her bed, dragging Harry down with her. “Flint _should_ have graduated last year. But he failed his NEWTs, so he has to repeat this year. He was going to continue as captain of the Quidditch team, but Snape kicked him off the team.”

“Why? Flint's a good Chaser,” said Harry.

Pansy shrugged. “Apparently if someone gets held back their Head of House has to make sure that their grades improve, and Snape's decided that he's had enough of babying Slytherins who fail. So now any of us who get held back are being kept out of all non-academic groups.”

“Wow. Can't say I blame him, though,” said Harry.

“I know, right?” Pansy giggled again. “Snape's really cracking down: anyone he thinks is struggling might get kicked off any teams or clubs they're on so they can focus on their studies.”

“Can he do that?” Harry asked.

“Maybe. But who's going to argue with him?” 

“I would,” Harry decided.

Pansy laughed. “Yeah, but you're his favourite student. Even if you were failing, he'd let you stay on the Quidditch team. Don't try to deny it, Potter,” she said, when Harry looked at her disbelievingly. “Obviously you're no where near failing anything, but he'd let you get away with murder. Which is why I want to hear _all_ about your summer.”

Harry laughed and began telling Pansy all about Severus' garden, figuring that was something safe that Severus wouldn't mind him telling the biggest gossip in the school. Predictably, Pansy got frustrated with him, and when Daphne and Millicent came in to get their Herbology books, she quickly changed the subject.

Their first Herbology lesson was boring for Harry. Sprout was teaching them how to prune aconite, but as he'd already done that over summer with Severus, he didn't need to pay much attention to her. He spent most of the lesson watching Tracey and Anthony attempt to get Daphne and Stephen (who they were again sharing a table with) to stop flirting long enough to do some work. 

After lunch they made their way down the castle lawn to where Hagrid was waiting for them outside his hut with Fang. To Harry's delight, they were sharing this class with Gryffindor, and Hermione and Neville walked down with him.

“Is this your first elective subject?” Hermione asked brightly. “I had Arithmancy this morning which was fascinating, but I expect Tracey's told you all about that?”

“She and Theo mentioned something, yeah. Listen, you wouldn't know any good books about Patronus Charms, would you?”

“Patronus Charms?” Hermione frowned thoughtfully at him. “They'd be covered by the NEWT level Defence books. Why do you ask?”

“Snape's going to teach me.”

“You never told me that!” Draco said accusingly.

Harry shrugged. “He spoke to me about them before the feast yesterday. I was going to tell you last night but you distracted me.”

“I _am_ rather distracting, aren't I?” Draco said smugly.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “That's really advanced magic Harry. Are you sure you're ready for that?”

Harry shrugged again. “Snape obviously thinks so.”

They fell silent as they reached Hagrid's hut. Fang bounded over to Draco and Hagrid nodded at them before addressing the class. “Everyone here? Good. I've got a great lesson planned for yeh all! Follow me!”

He led them around the edge of the Forbidden Forest to an empty paddock. “Now, I'll just go get our creatures fer today. You lot open yer books while I'm gone.”

There was some commotion as everyone pulled their books out: none of the Gryffindors had worked out how to calm their books, and still had them tied in ropes or bound in clips.

“Here,” Harry took Hermione's book off her. It tried to snap at his fingers through the tape she'd bound it in, but quietened down after he stroked the spine.

“Thanks,” she said in surprise as she took it back.

“No problem,” he said, doing the same for Neville. 

“Ooh!” Lavender squealed loudly, pointing across the paddock.

Hagrid was herding a dozen odd looking creatures towards them. Their back halves looked like those of horses, but their front legs and heads were those of giant eagles. They had sharp looking beaks and talons, fierce orange eyes, and large wings in the middle of their backs. Their bodies were half covered in fur and half in feathers, in a variety of browns, greys and blacks. Each had a large leather collar round its neck, attached to the chains Hagrid was holding onto.

“Hippogriffs!” he called cheerfully. “Beautiful things, they are, but deadly if they want ter be.”

The class drew back from the paddock fence at his words. “Now, don't be like that! The trick to Hippogriffs is not to insult 'em, see. They're smart, and very proud, but all yeh have to do is treat 'em respectful like: Hippogriffs like people to be polite. Yeh got to bow to 'em and keep eye contact – they don't trust people who blink too much. Now, who wants to go first?”

Everyone shuffled a little further away, except for Draco. Fang had wound himself behind Draco's legs at the Hippogriffs' approach, and had pushed him slightly forward.

“Good on yeh, Draco!” Hagrid beamed. “Now, I think I'll try yeh with Buckbeak.”

“Thanks a lot, Fang,” muttered Draco as he walked forward. 

Hagrid attached his fistful of chains to a fence post, and drew one free. He led the grey Hippogriff closer as Draco climbed slowly over the fence. Hagrid removed Buckbeak's collar and gave him a reassuring pat on his neck.

“Nice and slow now, Draco. Keep eye contact, tha's it,” Hagrid said quietly. 

Draco was edging closer with his back ramrod straight as Buckbeak eyed him off.

“Time to bow, Draco,” Hagrid instructed.

Draco bent into an elegant bow. It would have made Narcissa proud, thought Harry. His eyes followed the way Draco's robe tightened over his butt before he straightened up again and Harry forced his gaze back to Buckbeak. The Hippogriff regarded Draco haughtily before lowering his front legs down into a bow.

A massive grin split Hagrid's beard. “Well done Draco! Why don't yeh give him a pat now?”

Draco reached up to stroke behind Buckbeak's ear. The Hippogriff closed his eyes and leaned his head into the touch like a cat would. Hagrid led the class into a round of applause.

“What do yeh say to going for a ride on 'im?” asked Hagrid.

“Oh, that's not necessary,” Draco said swiftly.

“Ah, go on then, you'll like it. Just climb up behind his wings, and careful of 'is feathers.”

Draco gave him an uncertain look then climbed cautiously onto Buckbeak's back and settled himself as Buckbeak stood up. He was frowning down at Buckbeak's back, clearly trying to work out where to put his hands in the absence of reins, when Hagrid slapped Buckbeak's flank. Draco lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Buckbeak's neck as he spread his enormous wings and took off. They soared up into the sky, taking a leisurely flight around the paddock before Buckbeak headed back down to the class. They landed with a muffled thump, and Draco slid to the ground as the class cheered.

“Good job, Draco!” bellowed Hagrid. “Who else wants a turn?”

Hagrid untied the rest of the herd after that, and the class split into small groups as they began bowing to their Hippogriffs. Harry, Hermione and Neville joined Draco with Buckbeak, and soon the Hippogriff was basking in pleasure as they all stroked his smooth feathers. All in all, it was a very enjoyable lesson, and the four of them stayed behind afterwards to help Hagrid re-leash the Hippogriffs.

“So how'd I do?” Hagrid asked. 

“You were great,” said Harry, and the others nodded.

Hagrid went red behind his beard. “Glad yeh liked it. We'll be spending a few weeks with the Hippogriffs. Reckon you'll all get ter have a go riding one.” He let out a sudden groan. “Blast, forgot to tell yeh all ter read up on 'em before next week.”

“That's alright, you can set us homework next week,” Draco said at once.

Hagrid chuckled and cuffed Draco on the shoulder, making him stumble forwards. “Ah, yeh cheeky ratbag. Get on up to the castle, dinner'll be ready soon.”

********

  
Next morning the Slytherins had their first class with Lupin. Harry was looking forward to it. Not only did he have a feeling that Lupin would be a good teacher, given the way he'd handled the Dementor; he was also curious about this man who he thought might have been friends with his dad.

Lupin wasn't in the classroom when they arrived, and the class sat down and got their books and quills out.

Theo twisted around in his seat to look at Harry and Draco. “Adrian caught up to me at breakfast. He's been made Quidditch captain.”

“I thought it would have been Miles,” Draco said.

“I don't think Snape's too happy with his grades,” Theo replied. “Anyway, we have try outs Thursday evening. We need a Chaser and a Beater.”

“Thanks,” Harry said as Lupin walked into the room.

“Good morning everyone,” he said, smiling at them all. He took the roll quickly. “Please pack up your books, as this lesson will be a practical one.”

There was excited chatter as the class did as he'd asked. Apart from when Lockhart had let loose Cornish pixies, they'd never had a practical Defence class. Harry hoped this one wouldn't end up with Lupin's office being set on fire.

“Alright, follow me please,” Lupin said. 

He led them through the deserted corridors and into the empty staff room. Harry looked around in confusion. He and Draco had come in here once or twice under the Invisibility Cloak on their midnight explorations of the castle. Apart from a hidden stash of Firewhisky, there wasn't anything interesting in there.

Lupin stopped next to an old wardrobe which rattled violently at his approach. “Don't be alarmed,” he said mildly. “It's just a Boggart.”

Tracey squeaked and stepped to the back of the group, and quite a few other people were looking worried.

“Boggarts can be found in dark, enclosed spaces. Under beds, in closets, or even in small attics. I've asked the Headmaster to leave this one alone for the week so I can give my third year classes some practise. So first, can anyone tell me what a Boggart is?”

Theo put up his hand. “They're shape-shifters. No one knows what their true forms are, as they appear differently to everyone.”

“Precisely,” said Lupin. “Tracey, can you tell me why they choose the forms they do?”

“They take the form of your worst fears,” Tracey said quietly, edging closer to Theo.

“Exactly. Which means, as a group, we have this particular Boggart at a disadvantage. Harry, can you tell me why?”

“Er, because there's so many of us?” he guessed.

“Yes. Faced with more than one person with differing fears, Boggarts can become confused, and try to scare everyone at once. I once saw a Boggart try to scare two people at once. Headless corpses and flesh-eating slugs may be terrifying on their own, but half a slug? Not in the least.”

“Disgusting, though,” shuddered Daphne.

Lupin chuckled. “I won't disagree with that. Now, the charm that dispels a Boggart is very simple, but it requires concentration. You see, the thing that Boggarts hate is _laughter_. You need to force the Boggart to assume a shape you find amusing. For example, an evil knight advancing on you with an upheld axe may suddenly find himself holding a flowery pink umbrella.”

There were a few titters at that, although Harry noticed that Tracey wasn't laughing. 

“We'll practise the charm without wands first. Repeat after me: _riddikulus!_ ”

“ _Riddikulus_ ,” chorused the class.

“Excellent,” Lupin said. “Easy enough, isn't it? Now for the hard part. Daphne, what are you most afraid of?”

Daphne bit her lip as she thought. “A werewolf, sir.”

“A werewolf?” Lupin blinked a few times. “Right, then. When the Boggart appears as a werewolf to you, I want you to think very hard of it doing something amusing. Perhaps it could chase its tail? Can you picture that?”

Daphne closed her eyes and nodded.

“Very good. If you'll step forward then with your wand in hand. When the Boggart appears, shout ' _riddikulus_ ' and picture the werewolf chasing its tail, all right?”

Daphne gripped her wand and nodded.

“Everyone else, can you please line up behind Daphne. Once she is successful, I'll call the next person forward. While you're waiting, I'd like you think very hard of a way to turn your fear into something you find funny.”

Harry lined up behind Draco and frowned in thought. A Voldemort returned to full strength was a terrifying image, but then a Dementor swam through his mind's eye and he shuddered. How could he possibly make one of those funny? Put it in a Hawaiian shirt maybe, or a tutu?

Lupin raised his wand. “On the count of three, Daphne. One... Two... _Three!_ ”

Sparks flew from his wand, hitting the wardrobe door. It opened to reveal a werewolf, snarling through slavering jaws. It prowled towards Daphne, who raised her wand and shouted, “ _riddikulus!_ ”

There was a bang, and the werewolf gave a little bark and began chasing its own tail. As the class laughed, Lupin called forward Pansy. The werewolf turned into a tall, extremely pale man dressed in a black cape. He smiled maliciously, revealing pointed canines: a vampire. Draco gave Harry an excited grin.

“ _Riddikulus!_ ” Pansy shouted. 

The vampire held up a hand to his mouth in shock. His fangs had turned into false teeth, which fell out onto the floor with a clatter.

“Very good! Millicent!” Lupin called.

The class stepped back as the de-fanged vampire turned into a giant dragon. It raised its head to look at Millicent and open its mouth - “ _riddikulus!_ ” she shouted, and the dragon blew a stream of bubbles at her.

“Excellent! Theodore!”

The dragon turned into a clown, grinning maniacally at Theo. “ _Riddikulus!_ ” he shouted, but nothing happened. “RIDDIKULUS!”

“That's all right, Theodore, this happens sometimes,” Lupin said. “I'll explain later. Gregory, you next.”

Greg stepped forward, and the clown turned into a giant, which gave an inarticulate roar and pounded its chest. “ _Riddikulus!_ ” shouted Greg, and the giant's arms shrivelled into tiny misshapen things. 

“Very good! Vincent!”

The giant became a monstrous dog, which Vince turned into a yapping chihuahua. When Tracey took her turn, it became a rotting, shambling corpse. Harry's eyes watered at its stench as the dead man staggered forward. 

“ _Riddikulus!_ ” Tracey shouted. She was the only one who laughed as the zombie's decomposition sped up and its legs fell off. Daphne was looking at Tracey in horror as Blaise was called forward. The dead man turned into a creature with the head of a lion, a goat's body, and a long scaly tail. It opened its jaws, revealing long, sharp teeth, before its head suddenly turned into that of a teddy bear. 

“Brilliant! Draco!”

Draco stepped forward and was confronted with... Himself, Harry saw with dismay. Only it wasn't Draco as he knew him. This Draco had a cruel mouth and a hardness in his eyes that Harry had never seen before. He grinned malevolently at the real Draco and drew up his left sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark. There were quite a few gasps as the class realised what they were looking at, and Pansy looked like she was going to be sick. 

The real Draco had gone completely white as he stared at his doppelganger, and his wand arm was hanging uselessly by his side as the Boggart raised its own wand and pointed it at Draco.

Harry wasn't sure if the Boggart's wand would work or not, and he didn't want to wait to find out. He leapt forward to get in front of Draco, only to be pushed out of the way by Lupin. The fake Draco disappeared, to be replaced with a silvery orb hovering in the air. Lupin forced it at wand-point back into the closet and slammed the door shut.

“Five points to everyone who faced the Boggart or answered my questions,” he said. “Please read the chapter on Boggarts and summarise it, to be handed in next Tuesday. Theodore and Draco, please stay behind.”

The class cast worried looks back at Draco and Theo as they filed out the door. Harry stayed stubbornly next to Draco, who was still unhealthily white. Lupin's gaze flicked from Draco to Harry and back again before he nodded briefly.

“Theodore, you couldn't change your Boggart's shape as it was already in one that is meant to be funny,” Lupin said gently. “Clowns are seen as comedic figures in the Muggle world, but the phobia of clowns is a very common one.”

“So you're saying I have no chance against a Boggart?” Theo asked with a frown.

Lupin cocked his head. “I wouldn't say that. Just that you might have to concentrate extremely hard to force yours into something you find amusing. There should be some texts in the library that mention unusual Boggarts if you want to read about it.”

Theo nodded, pacified. “I will. Thank you, sir.”

After Theo had left Lupin looked at Draco. “I'm afraid your Boggart isn't quite so simple.”

“Seems pretty simple to me,” said Draco in a hollow voice. “I need to find a way to make myself as a Death Eater funny.”

Lupin frowned. “No, I don't think that's it. I think you should talk to Professor Snape.”

“Why, because he used to be a Death Eater?” asked Draco.

Lupin started slightly. “I simply meant in his role as your Head of House. But his, ah, past allegiance may help him with that, yes.”

“I'll think about it,” Draco conceded.

“Thank you,” said Lupin.

“I'll make sure he does,” said Harry, then hesitated. 

“Was there something else?” Lupin asked.

“Er, yeah. Why didn't you let me face the Boggart?”

“It's obvious, isn't it?” Lupin asked in surprise. “I assumed yours would take the form of Voldemort. I rather thought people would panic at the sight.” 

“Oh,” Harry said in relief. “No, I think it would be a Dementor.”

“Ah. Well, I'm sorry for making an assumption like that. Now, you better be off, you don't want to miss all of your break,” Lupin said.

Draco was still pretty quiet out in the corridor, though he had returned to his usual colour. He followed Harry unquestioningly until they entered the kitchen corridor.

“What are we doing here?”

“Getting you something to eat. Wait here,” ordered Harry. He frowned as Draco did as he was told: he usually only let himself be bossed around when he was worried about Harry. This role reversal was unsettling. 

He quickly got some hot jam doughnuts off the house elves and dragged Draco up to an empty classroom in the Charms corridor for the rest of their break. They didn't speak much, but Draco did relax once he'd had some sugar.

“Thank you, this was exactly what I needed,” Draco said quietly.

“No problem,” Harry said lightly, then snickered. “You have some sugar on your cheek.”

Draco wiped his cheek hastily. “Gone?”

“No. Here,” Harry reached out and gently brushed the other cheek, unable to stop himself lingering slightly. “That's better.”

Draco had gone pink, and cleared his throat. “We better get to class.”

When they got to Charms they found the rest of the class more subdued than normal. As they waited for Flitwick to arrive, Harry leaned over to Theo.

“You're not scared of clowns because of some Muggle thing I told you about, are you?”

Theo snorted. “Not really. Tracey talked her parents into getting a television over the summer, and we spent a lot of time watching horror movies. She loves them, which is why she dealt with her Boggart the way she did. She actually finds that sort of thing funny in zombie movies.”

Harry felt relieved: the last thing he'd wanted to do when teaching Theo and Tracey about Muggles was to give them a new phobia. “So why was her Boggart a zombie then, if she likes zombie movies?”

“It was an Inferius, which isn't quite the same thing,” Theo said. “Back when the Dark Lord was in power he used them against people he didn't like as a form of psychological warfare. He liked to send the reanimated corpses of his victims against their families.”

“I remember hearing about her family being attacked by one,” Draco whispered. “She would've been a baby at the time.”

Harry stared at him in horror. “That's awful.”

Draco grimaced. “I overheard my father telling that story to a friend and laughing about it. I just didn't know what an Inferius was before.”

“Does your dad know that you're friends with her now?” Harry asked.

“Why would he care?” Draco asked bitterly. “He knows I'm friends with you, and the Dark Lord tried to kill you personally.”

********

  
For their first Potions class Severus had given the class a surprise test on topics they'd covered over the last two years, as well as what they'd be studying this year. Harry had found it all easy: his summer with Severus was proving to be very beneficial. Which was a good thing, as he was still distracted by his worry over Draco.

When the class was dismissed, Harry grabbed Draco's wrist and made him hang back.

“Did you have a query about one of the test questions?” Severus asked.

“No, Draco wanted to talk to you about his Boggart, sir,” Harry said and elbowed Draco, earning himself a glare.

“Did Lupin not explain them to you satisfactorily?” asked Severus.

“No, he was fine, sir,” muttered Draco, avoiding eye contact.

Severus waited for Draco to continue, then sighed impatiently. “I don't have all day.”

Harry cast an annoyed look at Draco and huffed. “Draco's Boggart was himself as a Death Eater.”

Severus frowned at Draco. “Is this true?” When Draco nodded miserably, Severus pursed his lips. “Harry, I need to talk to Draco in private.”

“Yes, sir,” said Harry as he picked up his bag. “I'll be in the library when you're done,” he said to Draco.

He found Pince behind her desk, peering suspiciously at the students in the library. 

“Madam Pince, can you tell me where the books on Patronuses are?” he asked her.

“What do you want with them? They're not something third years would need to study.”

“Professor Snape recommended I read up on them,” he said. 

Pince eyed him beadily. “Hmph. Third row in the Defence section, middle shelf.”

“Thanks,” he said. 

He frowned slightly as he followed her directions. Surely it wasn't normal for a librarian to dislike students borrowing books? He chose a few books that looked helpful and decided to read over them at one of the study tables, as dinner wouldn't be for a while yet. He caught sight of some pale blonde hair, but it turned out to be Luna, not Draco. She had a pile of books in front of her, and had her wand tucked behind one ear.

“Do you want to join me?” she asked, looking up. 

“Okay,” he smiled at her as he sat down. She gazed intently at him, cocking her head to the side.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asked.

“No, I'm just not used to people wanting to sit with me,” she said matter of factly. “This is nice.”

“Er, yeah,” he said awkwardly. Not sure what else to say, he pulled one of his books towards him and turned to the contents page. 

“What are you reading?” Luna asked.

“Snape's going to teach me to fight off Dementors, and he told me to read the theory first,” he explained.

“That's nice of him,” Luna said.

“Yeah, it is,” Harry agreed, pleased. There weren't many other students who thought Severus could be nice. “Were you all right after that Dementor?”

“I was a bit upset that night, but I'm fine now. Mum only died a few years ago, and I still get sad about it sometimes.”

“I'm sorry. How did she die?” Harry asked tentatively.

“She used to like experimenting with magic. One day, when I was nine, one of her spells backfired.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said again. 

Luna gave him a dreamy smile. “Thank you. It would have been nice if she could have seen the result, since she'd been working on it for so long, and was quite close to a breakthrough. But I know she would have been glad that I wasn't hurt.”

“You were with her when it happened?”

Luna nodded. “I liked to watch her work, even if I was too young to understand what she was trying to do. I'm thankful I was there that day, so she didn't die alone. Now she watches over me, and I'll get to see her again after I die.”

“You really think so?”

“Oh, yes. Just like your parents watch over you. The ones we love never really leave us, you know.”

“I wish I could believe that,” Harry said quietly.

“Why can't you? You can believe anything you want to.”

Harry swallowed as he met Luna's earnest gaze. “Because I think the Dementor made me hear my mum getting murdered by Voldemort,” he said quietly. He hadn't even told Draco about that. For some reason, Luna made him feel like he could tell her anything. 

“No wonder you fainted, then,” Luna said. 

“Yeah,” said Harry, trying to think of a different topic. “So, er, what's an umgubular slashkilter?”

When Draco eventually walked into the library, he found Harry in silent convulsions as he laughed at Luna's description of umgubular slashkilters. He waved a hand at Luna. “Tell Draco about what they use their horns for.”

“I'm good, thank you,” Draco said, giving Luna a sidelong glance. “It's dinner time.”

“Right. See you around, Luna,” Harry said as he got up.

Luna raised a hand before going back to her reading, seemingly not concerned about dinner.

“So you like her, then?” Draco asked.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “She might be the weirdest person I've ever met, but she's pretty cool.”

Draco waited impatiently as Harry checked out the books from Pince. As soon as they were out in the corridor he picked up where he'd left off. 

“You only met her a few days ago, how can you possibly like her already?” he demanded.

“How long do you think it takes me to like someone?” Harry looked at Draco in confusion. “ _Oh_. No, I don't _like_ like her. I just like her.”

“That's not what it looked like from where I was standing,” sniffed Draco.

“Well, you're wrong then, you git. But if I was going to like a girl, it might be her. I quite like blondes, you know,” Harry said, trying and failing to stop his gaze flicking to Draco's hair for a second. He cleared his throat as Draco's eyes widened slightly. “So what'd Snape say?”

Draco blinked and looked away. “Same things you did, actually.”

“But you believe him over me?” Harry couldn't help feeling a little hurt. 

“Well, yes. He used to be a Death Eater himself, and he's known my father for years. Of course he was more persuasive than you were on the subject,” Draco raised an eyebrow. “But yes, you were right, too, I suppose.”

“Thanks. Git.”

“Prat.”


	6. In Which Predictions are Made, Gemma is Replaced, and Harry and Draco Avenge Hermione

By the time Thursday rolled around, Harry was feeling much better about everything. Draco was back to normal after his talk with Severus. They'd had another Defence lesson, which although far less action packed than their first, was quickly becoming Harry's favourite subject after Potions. Best of all, they had Quidditch try outs that evening. Harry had missed flying; it was one thing he'd been unable to do at Severus', as the property simply wasn't big enough to hide him from view of any passing Muggles. 

When the mail arrived at breakfast, Thoth landed in front of Draco with a reply from Narcissa, along with his usual box of sweets. He frowned slightly as he read it before looking up at Harry. 

“Lupin was a few years below Mother in school. She says Lupin _was_ friends with Black, as well as with both your parents,” he said quietly. “But she also says that he was quite sickly, and she doubts he would've joined the Death Eaters as a spy like Black apparently did. She hasn't heard of him since she left school, but she's never seen him with any of my father's old cronies, who are almost certainly all ex-Death Eaters.”

“So basically, don't worry about it?” Harry asked.

Draco snorted. “You know how Mother likes to worry. She's told me again to keep an eye on you, but no, I don't think you need to worry about Lupin.”

“Cool. Tell her thanks from me,” Harry said through a mouthful of toast. 

“Of course. I'll leave out the spray of crumbs, though,” Draco said and wrinkled his nose. 

Harry grinned unrepentantly as he stood up. “Cheers.”

He waited with Pansy and Daphne for Greg and Vince to grab a stack of toast each, then they set off together for Divination. It was their first lesson, and Harry hoped this elective would be as fun as Hagrid's class had been.

“We're at the top of the North tower,” Pansy said, then looked up from her timetable. “Anyone know where that is?”

“I do,” said Harry. He and Draco had been up there a few times under the Invisibility Cloak, but he didn't remember seeing a classroom on their travels.

“How much further?” Pansy panted ten minutes later.

“Just one more staircase. And there's a good view of the grounds from up there,” Harry said encouragingly.

“You can shove your view up your arse. I just want to sit down,” Pansy grumbled.

They emerged from the stairs into a tiny circular landing. The walls were dotted with windows, but there was a distinct lack of doors.

“Potter, if you've led us up here for a joke I will murder you,” said Pansy as she looked around. “Just as soon as I get my breath back.”

“Look!” Daphne pointed upwards. 

There was a round trapdoor set in the ceiling, with a plaque that read _Sybil Trelawney, Divination teacher_. As they watched, the door opened and a silvery rope ladder fell through. When no one else made a move towards it, Harry grasped it and climbed up.

He ended up in one of the strangest classrooms he'd ever seen. Instead of desks and a blackboard, the room was furnished with little tea tables with squashy pouffes and armchairs scattered around them. The fireplace was lit, heating the small room to an almost uncomfortable temperature and giving off a nauseatingly sweet smell. To make the feeling of claustrophobia worse, all the windows were shut, and the lamps had scarves thrown over them, leaving the room only dimly lit. The rest of the class clambered through the trapdoor and stood together uncertainly as they looked around, before Pansy pushed forward and collapsed onto a pouffe. 

“Welcome, my dears, and sit down,” came a breathy voice. 

The class turned around to find Trelawney emerging from the shadows. Harry's first impression was that of a giant dragonfly. Stick thin and wrapped in a gauzy shawl, Trelawney wore thick glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, and countless glittery necklaces, rings and bracelets. Harry and Daphne quickly sat down next to Pansy, leaving Vince and Greg to squeeze around their own table. Greg's pouffe creaked ominously as he sat down. 

“How nice to see you all in the flesh. I am Professor Trelawney,” she said somewhat unnecessarily. “Welcome to Divination. You have chosen a difficult path, for this subject is not one that you can easily learn through books. Without the gift of true Sight, I am afraid that all I can teach you is the theory, no matter how talented you may be in other, more mundane areas.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and smothered a laugh as he thought of Hermione. Now he knew why McGonagall had been adamant she wouldn't enjoy this subject. 

“The fates have informed me that we shall begin this year learning how to divine the future through tea leaves. Next term we shall study palmistry, and the summer term will be devoted to the crystal ball.” She gazed around at the class, who looked back in bemusement, before she turned to Daphne. “My dear, I feel I must warn you that your greatest fear will come true just before Halloween.”

Daphne put her hand over her mouth and stared at Trelawney with wide eyes. 

“Now, my dear, if you could hand me the largest silver teapot?” she asked Vince. 

He stood up awkwardly, as he was rather too large for the pouffe he was sitting on, and handed her the requested teapot. 

“Thank you. Collect a teacup and come to me so I may fill it for you. Sit and drink until only the dregs remain. With your left hand, swish these around your cup three times, then turn it upside down on your saucer. Once the tea has drained away, you may read your tea leaves. The patterns are covered on pages five and six of _Unfogging the Future_ , and I shall move amongst you to offer you my guidance.” As the class did as she'd instructed, she laid her hand on Greg's arm. “If you don't mind, dear, use an armchair after you break the pouffe. You'll be far more comfortable.”

Greg gaped after her as she moved off. 

“Just move to an armchair now,” suggested Pansy as she squeezed past him.

“But all my stuff's at that table,” Greg said.

Pansy shook her head. “If nothing else, this class is going to make me feel really good about my intelligence,” she muttered to Harry as they sat back down. “No Tracey, Hermione or Theo? This'll do wonders for my self-esteem.”

“Yeah, but it also means there isn't anyone for you to copy off,” replied Daphne.

Pansy blew on her tea. “Who cares? I'm guaranteed to get better grades than forty percent of the class.”

They jumped when a loud thump came from the other table. They looked over to see Greg sprawled on the floor, the splintered remains of his pouffe under his legs. Vince helped him up and Trelawney guided them over to another table.

“You said that would happen,” Greg said in shock as Vince stared at him.

“Like no one else saw that coming?” Pansy asked scornfully.

“Greg didn't,” Daphne pointed out.

“What a surprise,” said Pansy as she upended her cup. Harry and Daphne quickly followed suit.

Daphne put her cup in the centre of the table. “Me first!”

“That looks like a chain,” said Harry, flipping through his book. “Which means, er, a wedding. Congratulations?”

“Ooh, and that's a baby! That explains the underage wedding,” Pansy teased.

“No!” Daphne blushed. “Look, a baby means small worries. And that's a fork, which means false flattery.”

“So, you're going to be a little worried when someone lies and says they like your wedding dress?” giggled Pansy. “There are worse things to worry about at a wedding, I guess.”

“What does yours have, then?” Daphne asked.

“Hmm,” Pansy peered at her cup. “A lock, a bird, hmm, and a question mark.”

“So... Obstacles, good news and, er, a need for caution,” Harry read out from his book.

Daphne tilted her head. “I think it looks more like an owl, which is gossip and scandal.”

“Excellent,” grinned Pansy. “Although, who comes up with this stuff? None of this makes any sense. Shouldn't an owl represent wisdom or something?”

“You'd think so,” Harry agreed as he picked up his cup. “Er, I think I have a squid – no, it's got too many legs. Maybe a spider?”

“Reward for work, cool,” said Daphne.

“Right. And that's a wolf, I think,” Harry said.

“Jealousy. Well, that'd have to be Draco,” Pansy said, then started giggling. Daphne joined in as Harry glared at them.

“Good one,” he muttered as Trelawney frowned and walked over to them and took Harry's cup from him.

“My dear, this is not an auspicious cup,” she murmured. “Clouds for trouble... A tower: you're in for disappointment... An octopus, my dear, you'll be in danger...”

“I thought that was a spider,” Harry objected.

“No, no, it's definitely an octopus,” Trelawney declared. “And – oh no.”

“What?”

“I'm not sure I should say, perhaps it's kindest not to...” Trelawney said mournfully.

“There's just a wolf left, isn't there?” Harry craned his neck trying to look into the cup. “I can deal with some jealousy.”

“That's not a wolf, my dear, but the Grim!” Trelawney said dramatically. Daphne gasped, but Pansy looked at Trelawney sceptically. 

“What's a Grim?” Harry asked.

“The Grim, my dear! The giant spectral dog that haunts graveyards,” Trelawney said. “It is one of the worst death omens you could find!”

Pansy snatched the cup back. “How can you tell that's a Grim? We thought it was a wolf, but it could just be a dog. That just means friendship, doesn't it?”

“My dear, that is most certainly the Grim,” Trelawney said firmly. “I'm so sorry to tell you this, and in your first lesson, too.”

“I still think it's a wolf,” Harry argued.

“No, my dear, let me show you again,” Trelawney said and reached for the cup.

Pansy held it up, but let go too soon. The cup fell to the table and smashed. “Oops,” she said blandly. “You should have warned me that was going to happen, Professor. Now we'll never know.”

Trelawney looked at her angrily before composing herself. “Well, then,” she said. “I think we'll end the lesson here. Please read the first chapter on tea leaves for our next lesson.”

The class packed up and descended the ladder. Vince and Greg walked off ahead in silence. 

“Are you all right, Harry?” asked Daphne in concern.

“I'm fine,” he said shortly.

“Of course you are,” said Pansy. “What a manipulative bitch.”

“What do you mean?” asked Daphne. 

“You saw what she did, didn't you? Harry's cup was no worse than either of ours, but she twisted everything into something horrible. Did she say anything about your upcoming wedding? No,” said Pansy angrily. “You'd think a teacher would be slightly concerned a thirteen year old had a wedding in their immediate future.”

“You think she's deliberately trying to freak me out?” asked Harry.

“I don't know. But that was weird, and I don't trust her,” Pansy said firmly.

“You haven't seen the Grim, have you?” Daphne asked.

“I did see a giant dog over summer,” Harry admitted. “But it wasn't haunting a graveyard so much as watching me from a driveway.”

“You see?” Pansy crowed. “Trelawney would probably try to tell you it was the Grim. Any sane person would tell you it was a stray.”

“Thanks, Pansy,” Harry said, cheering up.

Daphne still looked unconvinced. “But what about Greg's pouffe?”

“What about it?” Pansy asked impatiently. “He and Vince break things all the time. Remember that table in the common room last year? Or that desk in the History of Magic classroom that neither of them can sit at? Trelawney just picked an easy target to impress us with her gift or whatever. Notice how she didn't use a Repairing Charm on it like any other teacher would? Just a ploy to build the drama.”

“You're scarily good at this,” Harry said.

“Spend as much time gossiping as I do, and you'll learn how people can spin things, too,” said Pansy smugly.

********

  
Just before seven o'clock that evening Harry, Draco and Theo headed down to the Quidditch pitch for the team try outs. There were about twenty Slytherins waiting for them as they walked out of the changing rooms with the rest of the team, and Harry was happy to see Millicent was one of them. He smiled encouragingly at her, but she must have been nervous, as she only managed a grimace in return.

Adrian put his hand to his mouth and let loose an ear-piercingly loud whistle. “Alright, let's get started. First of all, you need to be in second year or above to play, so beat it, firsties.” A couple of boys giggled and ran off into the stands. Adrian rolled his eyes and continued. “Secondly, we're only looking for one Chaser and one Beater today. If you fancy yourself a Keeper or a Seeker, either change your position or join the firsties in the stands. And finally, Professor Snape wanted me to inform you that anyone in danger of failing any subject will be kicked off the team, so if you're struggling in class, don't bother trying out tonight. I don't want to have to go through this again in a few weeks.”

There was some grumbling as a group of older students left the pitch, leaving ten people behind, Millicent among them. Adrian got them to do a warm up lap, then introduced the Quaffle. Anyone who dropped it more than once was out.

“But I was going for Beater, not Chaser,” Lucian Bole protested as he landed.

“And a Beater needs to be able to keep a hold of their bat as well as their broom. Maybe you'll have better luck next year,” Adrian replied with a total lack of concern. 

When there were only four people left in the air, Adrian organised them into a half game. He left Miles as Keeper and had Harry join Draco as a Chaser while he himself sat out to observe. Cassius Warrington, a thuggish fifth year Harry had never spoken to, took the first shot as Chaser, while Millicent joined Theo as a Beater. 

“Just give me the Quaffle and let me show Pucey my skills,” Warrington ordered Harry and Draco.

Draco looked him up and down contemptuously. “Sure,” he sneered before turning his back on him. “ _I don't like him_ ,” he hissed to Harry.

“ _Not really your call though_ ,” Harry said. “ _But hopefully Millicent can sort him out for you_.”

Draco looked across to where Millicent was testing the weight of her Beater's club. “ _Nothing wrong with giving her a helping hand_ ,” he drawled.

In the end Draco didn't need to sabotage Warrington's try out. Millicent proved absolutely brutal with a bat, showing no qualms about belting the Bludger directly at Warrington's face – or at Harry and Draco, for that matter. After Warrington was winded and dropped the Quaffle for the second time, Adrian called time. As they headed back for the ground, Harry saw Theo give Adrian a covert thumbs up.

The next Chaser was a tiny second year called Scarlett Lympsham, who came up to Harry's shoulder. She looked like a short-haired Princess Jasmine, though Harry doubted she'd welcome the comparison. 

“Don't go easy on me just 'cause I'm small, okay?” she said. “I can hold my own.”

“You're no shorter than Harry was when he began playing,” Draco said. Harry elbowed him in his ribs, making Scarlett laugh as she took off.

“I was taller than that,” Harry muttered.

“Not by much,” Draco smirked, quickly flying out of hitting reach. Harry stuck his tongue out at him as he followed him into the air.

This game was the complete opposite of the previous one. Scarlett was quick, very quick, and dodged Bludgers as easily as she put the Quaffle through the goal posts. Peregrine Derrick, the wannabe Beater, didn't come close to hitting her with the Bludger.

“Millicent, Scarlett, you're on the team,” Adrian announced. “First training session will be the same time next week.” Warrington and Peregrine both cornered him angrily as the rest of the team made their way to the changing rooms. 

“Congratulations Millicent! You too, Scarlett,” Harry added. Both girls beamed as they headed off for the showers. “You going to forgive Gemma for quitting now?” he asked Draco.

Draco nodded happily. “Millicent's vicious, isn't she? And Scarlett should work well with Adrian and me. We've got a good shot at the cup this year.”

It was growing dark by the time they began the trek back up to the castle. Millicent and Theo pulled ahead, leaving Harry and Draco with Scarlett. Harry caught sight of a flash of ginger out of the corner of his eye and turned to regard the Forbidden Forest. He'd almost begun to think he was seeing things when he saw it again, and nudged Draco. “Isn't that Crookshanks?”

Draco looked where he'd pointed. “Yes, I think so. I did try to tell Hermione that part-Kneazles can be a handful.”

Draco went back to discussing the Falmouth Falcons with Scarlett; he'd been delighted to discover they supported the same professional Quidditch team. Harry resolved to hurry up and pick a team of his own, then returned to watching as Crookshanks wandered a little way out of the Forest before he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. Harry's eyes widened as he saw a enormous dog emerge from the gloom of the Forest. It didn't come fully out of the shadows, but there was no mistaking it. It stopped moving as soon as it saw them and stood there staring at him. Crookshanks seized the chance to run back up to the castle.

“Draco, can you see that too?” Harry asked quietly.

Both Draco and Scarlett glanced over. “You mean that giant dog?” Scarlett asked. “I wonder where that came from. I didn't think students were allowed to bring dogs to Hogwarts.”

“We're not,” Draco answered curtly. “What's the problem, Harry?”

“I think I've seen that dog before. In Surrey, over the summer,” he said slowly. “Daphne thought it must have been the Grim, but it can't be, can it, if you two can see it as well?”

Draco shook his head. “No, the Grim will appear to only one victim at a time. I'm beginning to agree with Pansy's assessment of that class.”

“It's just a dog, forget about it,” Scarlett said impatiently. “I have a lot of people I need to brag to, catch you later!”

They watched in amusement as she sprinted back up to the castle.

“God, I feel exhausted just watching her,” Draco moaned. 

Harry let out a short laugh. “You won't be complaining on the Quidditch pitch. Anyway, don't you think it's weird that a dog's followed me here from Surrey?”

“I think it's nice that you're continuing your hobby of random paranoia,” Draco laughed. “Seriously, how can you tell it's the same dog? You saw the first one at night, there's no way you could have gotten a good look at it.”

“I just have a feeling. There's something off about this dog,” Harry said stubbornly.

“Whatever. If you're so worried about it, ask Hagrid. If anyone's seen a stray dog around here, it'd be him. Or Fang.”

“Come visit him on the weekend then?” Harry asked.

“Sure. As long as he doesn't try to give us homework again. That's just bizarre coming from Hagrid.”

********

  
As it turned out, Hagrid didn't know anything about any stray dogs. “I can keep an eye out for yeh, if yeh want,” he finally offered. “Don't know why yeh botherin', really. We get strays on the grounds from time to time. They can slip through the bars on the gates, see. They don't usually get up to much, seeing as how there's centaurs and Thestrals and everything to get past.”

“I'm just curious,” Harry replied. He ignored Draco mouthing “paranoid” at Hagrid. “We better get going, we've got a lot of homework to do.”

They managed to politely refuse Hagrid's offer of further rock cakes and went back to the castle. 

“See?” Draco asked pointedly. “I told you that you were just -”

“Can you stop it with the paranoia thing already? I've been right more than I've been wrong,” Harry snapped.

“I just don't think it's the Grim,” Draco said, hurt. “You might be right about it being the same dog, which I agree would be strange. It's just that I don't want you to start believing Trelawney's predictions. You're not about to die.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with some surprise. “Sorry, I guess she's just made me a little edgy.”

“Apology accepted,” Draco said. 

They walked the rest of the way in an awkward silence. Harry couldn't remember a time they'd been this awkward, but then, he couldn't remember a time when he'd been aware that he _liked_ Draco – or anyone, come to think of it – and was worried (not paranoid, thank you very much) that bringing up the wrong subject would give himself away. He was actually a little relieved when they entered the Entrance Hall and spotted a distraught Hermione coming up the staircases from the dungeons.

“What is it?” Draco asked at once.

Hermione dashed a hand across her cheeks in annoyance. “There you are! It's – well, it shouldn't – that is, I _don't_ care, not really, but – oh, it's so – can we talk somewhere?”

“Wait here,” Harry said before sprinting off to his dorm. He returned a couple of minutes later with a box of Draco's sweets, to find Hermione pacing in agitation and Draco frowning at her in concern from where he was leaning against a wall as he watched her progress. 

“Come on,” Harry said briskly. Draco had pushed off from the wall at Harry's return, but they had to wait a few seconds before Hermione joined them. “Where are we going?” she asked shakily as she stepped up next to Harry. 

Harry gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. “Somewhere we can talk,” he said as he steered them up the staircases, finally coming out on the seventh floor. 

“Where are we?” she asked. 

“Just a sec,” Harry said. As Draco and Hermione waited by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Harry paced up and down in front of the opposite wall. I need somewhere Hermione will feel comfortable, he thought. He heard Hermione gasp and opened his eyes to find a door had appeared in the wall next to him. He opened it to find himself standing on the threshold of a very neat bedroom.

“What is this place?” Hermione asked as she walked in, her mouth dropping open.

“We don't actually know,” Draco said as he shut the door. “We discovered it by accident last year. It can be anything you want, as far as we can tell.”

“So you made my bedroom?” Hermione asked Harry.

“I just asked for somewhere you'd be comfortable, the room did all the rest,” he explained.

“This is amazing,” Hermione said as she wandered around. “How come you didn't tell me?”

“We got a bit distracted by the basilisk that was roaming the school,” Draco said drily. “And anyway, Snape warned us not to go wandering around under the Cloak while the attacks were still happening.”

“Right, of course,” Hermione said. She knelt down and pulled a box out from under the bed. “It even has my old diaries!”

Draco's eyes lit up. “Really?”

Hermione laughed and handed him the box. “You can read them if you want. I was seven or eight when I wrote these, there isn't anything scandalous in there.”

“I'll be the judge of that,” Draco said gleefully, taking the diaries to the armchair in the corner. 

“So what's wrong?” Harry said as he sat down on the bed. 

Hermione joined him and sighed. “It's Ron.”

“Again?” Harry frowned. He still hadn't forgiven Ron for making Hermione cry during first year.

Hermione nodded miserably. “He has a pet rat, and Crookshanks tried to catch it earlier. He started yelling at me in the middle of the common room, and then Crookshanks ran out when he tried to kick him.”

“He tried to kick Crookshanks for chasing a rat? He is aware that Crookshanks is a cat, right?” Draco asked sarcastically as he got up to join them on the bed. 

Harry ignored him. “So he's made you cry again?”

“Well, actually,” Hermione said shiftily, “I was crying more with frustration than anything. I just wanted to punch him in his stupid face. I didn't think that was a good idea considering he had three siblings in the room to back him up, so I ran out.”

“You should have done it. I'm sure Ginny would have backed you up,” Harry said. Draco nodded.

“Maybe next time,” Hermione said. 

“There won't be a next time,” Harry said firmly. “Didn't anyone tell him to shut up?”

Hermione shook her head miserably. “I don't really have any friends in Gryffindor, apart from Neville and Ginny.”

“Ask to get re-sorted,” Harry suggested. “You'd make a good Slytherin.”

“Actually, the hat _did_ think about putting me in Ravenclaw,” she admitted. 

“You can't get re-sorted,” Draco announced. “But you can get revenge on the Weasel. Is McGonagall aware that he has a non-regulation pet at Hogwarts?”

“I couldn't get his pet taken away from him!” Hermione looked shocked. “I just want him to leave me alone.”

“But -”

“Alright, so we won't do that,” Draco cut in. He opened the box of sweets, revealing an assortment of mini cupcakes. As Hermione leaned over to choose one, he gave Harry a look that clearly said they'd be talking about this later. 

The afternoon passed quite pleasantly after that. They chatted on Hermione's bed as they ate the rest of the cupcakes. Draco began reading one of Hermione's diaries as he lay on the bed, though he had to keep stopping to ask them about a lot of the Muggle things Hermione had written about. 

“This room really is amazing,” Hermione said. “I'd completely forgotten that I'd ever liked Edward Bergensen.”

“You liked him a _lot_ if this is anything to go by,” Draco smirked up at her. She retaliated by grabbing a cushion and whacking him in the face.

Harry spoke over Draco's cries of protest. “Yeah, it can do anything but food. Hence the cupcakes.”

Draco grabbed the cushion off Hermione and glared at her. “Just because you couldn't punch the Weasel doesn't mean you can take your frustration out on me, Granger. Now, what happened with this Edward? I can't be bothered reading through all of these to find out.”

“Oh, I eventually worked up the courage to talk to him, only to find out he was a complete idiot,” Hermione said dismissively. 

“Tough luck,” said Harry sympathetically.

Draco nodded impatiently. “Speaking of courage, did Lupin have you all fight a Boggart in your first lesson?”

“Yes, it was brilliant! And it was quite interesting to find out what everyone was afraid of.”

“Like what?” Draco asked casually. Too casually, Harry thought.

“Well, Neville's was Professor Snape – don't look like that Harry, you _know_ he's horrible to Neville,” Hermione said. “Dean's was a severed hand, which I don't understand. What's so scary about that? Oh, Ron's was bad, though, a giant spider.”

Draco's eyes lit up. “What was yours?” Harry asked hurriedly. 

Hermione bit her lip. “Professor McGonagall expelling me. What about you?”

“I think it would've been a Dementor, but I'm not sure. I didn't get a chance to face it,” Harry said. 

“Why not?”

Harry glanced at Draco, who nodded lazily. “Draco was a little freaked out by his, so Lupin ended the lesson early.”

“Why, what was it?” Hermione looked at Draco worriedly.

“Myself as a Death Eater. Don't worry,” he added when Hermione gasped, “Harry dragged me to see Snape, and I felt much better after talking to him. I'm fine now.” When she looked at him doubtfully, he put his head into her lap and made puppy dog eyes at her. “Would I lie to you?”

“Yes,” she said at once. 

Draco smirked. “Point. Still, I'm not now.”

When Hermione said she had to go back to her dorm to study, Draco insisted on walking her to the portrait hole. They watched her disappear inside and headed back down to the dungeons. 

“That was gallant of you,” Harry said.

“It was, wasn't it?” Draco said smugly. “But I also needed to find out their new password.”

“What have you got planned?”

“I'm going to make the Weasel pay,” Draco said. “You heard Hermione: he's arachnophobic, which is excellent.”

“How so?” asked Harry.

“Well, we would have been in trouble if his Boggart was a dragon or something, but spiders? Spiders we can definitely do,” Draco said in satisfaction. “If we hurry now, we should be able to find some in the greenhouses before dinner.”

The greenhouses were deserted at this time, and they got inside without any problems. They lit their wands and started looking under the benches and on the plants.

“So what are we doing with these spiders?” Harry asked.

“Filling the Weasel's bed with them as he sleeps,” Draco said.

“What?” Harry looked up suddenly, hitting his head on the underside of the bench. “Ow!”

“You heard me,” Draco said.

“ _Multiple_ spiders? Don't you think that's overkill? We don't want to give him a heart attack,” objected Harry.

Draco shot him a withering look. “Fine, _one_ spider then. But it's got to be a big one.”

“And we give him a chance to say sorry first,” Harry said.

“Whose side are you on exactly?” Draco demanded. Harry just stared back stubbornly. “Fine! Now stop acting like a Hufflepuff and help me find the biggest spider in here.”

********

  
Harry spent dinner watching the Gryffindor table. When he saw Ron get up he elbowed Draco and stood up. “Come on.”

“This is a complete waste of time,” Draco complained as they followed the Gryffindor boys out into the Entrance Hall.

“I still want to try,” Harry insisted. “Oi, Weasley!”

Ron turned around and frowned when he saw who it was. “What d'you want?”

“Not to be having this conversation,” Draco muttered.

Harry looked at Ron steadily. “Stop picking on Hermione.”

Ron snorted. “What, she's too scared to talk to me herself, so she sends some snakes over?”

The other Gryffindors shifted uncomfortably, and Neville looked downright miserable. 

“She doesn't know anything about this,” Harry snapped.

“And she doesn't have to, either, if you leave her the hell alone,” Draco added.

“Real funny, a Malfoy defending a Muggle-born. I know all about your family,” Ron retorted. 

“And yet I'm the one who's friends with Hermione, while you seem to enjoy making her life hell. You do know that cats have a tendency to chase rats, don't you? So let me repeat: leave her the fuck alone,” snarled Draco.

“Or what?” Ron scoffed.

“Or we'll make your worst fears come true,” Draco threatened.

Ron laughed. “Yeah, right.”

Draco shrugged. “Can't say we didn't warn you.”

Harry glared at Ron in frustration. “Why do you have to make this difficult? Just leave her alone and we'll leave you alone.”

“I'm not scared of you,” Ron sneered.

Harry's lip curled as he looked back at him. “You should be.”

With that, he let Draco drag him off to the dungeons. 

“Satisfied now?” asked Draco.

Harry looked at him grimly. “I will be after tonight.”

“Excellent,” grinned Draco.

********

  
At one o'clock that night Harry and Draco stole out of the dungeons underneath the Cloak, with one extremely large spider trapped in a jar. To Harry's disappointment, they found the castle deserted and made quick progress: he would have quite liked to spend longer under the Cloak with Draco pressed against his back.

The Fat Lady was dozing when they got to the portrait hole. “Fortuna major,” Draco whispered. She mumbled indistinctly as the portrait swung open to admit them. 

The common room was empty, lit only by the dying fire. Draco pushed Harry over to the notice board to check the next password. “They've got the same password for next month, too! Well, that's terrible security, but it's brilliant for us,” he said happily. 

“Are you planning on spending a lot of time in here, then?” Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. “Maybe. Come on, the boys dorms have to be through that door.”

They crept up the spiral staircase until they found the door marked _Third Years_.

“Ready?” Draco asked in a low voice.

“Let's do it,” Harry said.

He gently turned the handle and pushed the door open a crack. It was dark inside, with dim moonlight coming in through the windows, and the only sound was someone snoring. They paused in the doorway. All four beds had their curtains closed.

“Which one is it?” Harry whispered.

“No idea,” Draco breathed. “We'll just have to check them all.”

“Great.”

They walked over to the first bed and Harry pulled back the curtain to reveal Seamus. They picked their way over the mess on the floor to the next bed, but Harry shook his head.

“What's wrong?” Draco whispered.

“Muggle poster,” Harry whispered.

He felt Draco nod behind him and they moved on to the next bed. This one had posters of a Quidditch team next to it, and Harry pulled back the curtain to reveal Ron. He was sleeping on his back, but luckily for him, he had his mouth shut.

Harry unscrewed the jar lid. “Ready?”

“Do it,” Draco whispered. 

Harry lifted the lid off and held the jar through the gap in the Cloak. 

“ _Wingardium leviosa_ ,” Draco said softly. 

He floated the spider, which was now struggling in mid-air, so that it hovered over Ron's face. Harry shut the jar again and put it in a pocket, before guiding Draco back across the messy floor as he concentrated on holding the charm. He shut the door quietly behind them and turned to look at Draco under the Cloak. 

“Now.”

Draco lowered his wand, and they stood there for a few seconds. Harry was just starting to worry that the spider had jumped off the bed altogether, when a blood-curdling scream came through the door. They grinned at each other for a second before walking down the stairs as fast as they could. Behind them, they could hear the other boys waking up and asking what was going on. 

“GET IT OFF ME!”

They made it out of the portrait hole and into the corridor before collapsing in quiet laughter on a low window ledge.

“Oh, how I wish we could have seen that,” Draco gasped.

“We decided it was too risky,” Harry reminded him. “You'll have to make do with the audio.”

“I know,” sighed Draco, before perking up. “But what a glorious sound it was!”


	7. In Which Harry Takes Tea With Lupin, and is Taught About Patronuses by Severus

Harry and Draco enjoyed telling the other third year Slytherins about their prank on Ron, as they'd decided it was simply too good to keep to themselves. Consequently, they were all looking forward to their next Care of Magical Creatures class, during which they expected Ron to attempt some form of retribution. 

“Don't worry, I'll tell you all about it at dinner,” Pansy promised Tracey and Theo, who were taking Muggle Studies instead. 

As they walked down to Hagrid's hut Hermione looked askance at Pansy. “Any reason you're so giddy today?” 

“I don't know what you mean,” Pansy said, failing to hide a smirk.

“You're practically skipping,” Hermione said.

“Youthful high spirits, I suppose,” Pansy replied blithely.

“Right.”

It turned out to be a very enjoyable lesson. As promised, Hagrid arranged for them all to have a go riding a Hippogriff. Harry didn't like riding Buckbeak anywhere near as much as his Nimbus 2001; the rise and fall of the wings was unsettling, especially with nothing to hold onto but a feathery neck, but it was still exhilarating. The Hippogriffs themselves seemed to be having fun as they took it in turns to fly the students around the paddock. The only person not enjoying themselves was Pansy, who spent most of the lesson covertly watching Ron, and looking increasingly annoyed as he failed to live up to her expectations.

“I hope yeh all had fun today,” Hagrid said as he began tethering the herd back up. “And make sure to read the chapter on Hippogriffs before next week!”

“Damn, I was hoping he'd forget again,” Draco said as they headed back for the castle.

“At least we haven't been set an essay,” Blaise pointed out.

“Oi, Potter! Malfoy!”

“Here we go!” Pansy said gleefully as the group turned around. 

Ron was striding up to them looking very pissed off. “I know it was you two wankers the other night!”

“What was us?” Harry asked innocently.

“The spider.”

Draco feigned confusion. “I've never been a spider before. Have you, Harry?” 

“I think I'd remember that,” Harry replied.

“Don't play dumb with me,” Ron snarled. “It's because of Hermione, you made that pretty clear. I bet she told you the password.”

“Hermione's _never_ told us the password,” Harry said. Not directly, he thought, as he glanced at where she was watching with a frown.

“Bit of a guilty conscience you've got there, Weasel,” Pansy sneered.

“It's not my fault her cat's a menace!” Ron pointed an angry finger at Hermione.

“Maybe not, but it is your fault that you've got a rat at Hogwarts. Do you guys remember rats being on the list of pets we could have?” Draco asked.

“No, I don't,” Blaise replied.

“Scabbers is an old family pet. He was here first, and he's sick. That cat needs to go,” Ron retorted.

“If he's sick, it's probably best if you let Crookshanks finish him off,” Draco said.

At that, Ron launched himself at Draco and tackled him to the ground. He started hitting Draco anywhere he could reach, as Draco tried to push him off. Harry leapt forward and tried to pull Ron off him, only to get an elbow in the stomach, winding him. 

“What's goin' on?” Hagrid roared. He bent down and easily picked Ron off Draco, who was helped up by Harry and Hermione. “What are you fightin' over?”

“He started it,” Draco said immediately.

Hagrid frowned down at them all. “I'm takin' the lot o' yeh to yer Heads of House.”

“But Hagrid -”

“No buts, Harry,” Hagrid said grouchily. “Come on.”

They had to half jog to keep up with Hagrid's angry strides, and had soon outstripped the rest of the class, who were talking excitedly about the fight.

“I'm sorry,” Hagrid said quietly to Harry and Draco, “but yeh can't go around fightin' like that.”

“We won't do it again,” Draco offered.

“Course yeh won't, not once McGonagall and Snape are through with yeh,” Hagrid replied. 

He left them in the Entrance Hall with a stern warning to behave, then ducked into the Great Hall. Students arriving early for dinner cast curious looks at them as they stood glaring at each other. A few minutes later Severus and McGonagall came marching out of the Great Hall.

“My office is closest,” Severus murmured to McGonagall.

“Of course. Move it, you three,” she barked.

They trudged miserably into Severus' office and lined up in front of the desk. 

“Explain,” McGonagall commanded.

“Weasley started it,” Draco said again. “We were arguing over his stupid rat when he jumped me. Harry just tried to get him off me.”

“They put a spider in my bed!” Ron protested.

“A spider?” Severus raised an eyebrow. 

“They threatened me the other day, and then that night I woke up with a giant spider on my face! I know it was them!”

“How would we get a spider into your bed?” Draco sneered.

Severus looked sharply at Harry, who tried to keep an innocent expression on his face.

“Why would they want to do that?” McGonagall asked.

“Because he's being horrible to Hermione,” Harry said angrily, “not that we did it.” Draco shook his head. 

Ron opened his mouth angrily, but McGonagall held up a hand. “From the beginning, if you'd be so kind.”

Draco quickly told her about the fights between Hermione and Ron, and their confrontation on Saturday.

McGonagall's nostrils flared. “I see. I don't care what prompted it, but fighting is not tolerated at Hogwarts. Twenty points from each of you. Weasley, keep your rat in your room. A closed door should be enough to keep a cat out. And if it doesn't, talk to Miss Granger in a _civilised manner_. I'll arrange the details of your detention later; Severus, you can take care of Potter and Malfoy. Come along.”

Severus waited until Ron had followed McGonagall out of his office before gesturing for them to sit down. “You _are_ aware that the dormitories of other houses are off limits to you, are you not?”

“We haven't been in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff,” Draco said.

Severus' lips twitched. “Though not for lack of trying, I'd wager. I take it you used your Invisibility Cloak to gain admittance to Gryffindor tower?”

Harry nodded slowly.

“I thought as much,” Severus sighed. “What did I tell you in your first year about using that Cloak, Mr Potter?”

“Not to go in any of your rooms uninvited.”

“And?”

“That you didn't want to have to take points off Slytherin,” Harry said sullenly.

“Exactly. Try to exercise some cunning next time, if restraint is too much to ask.”

“But we lost points for the fight, not using the Cloak,” Harry pointed out.

“A fight caused by your antics with the Cloak,” Severus replied. “If you insist on avenging Miss Granger, you need to do it without announcing it beforehand.”

“Then how is he going to realise why we're doing it? Weasley's not the smartest boy I've ever met,” Harry objected.

“Not that we have any future plans, of course,” Draco added hastily.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I'm sure you'll think of something. As for your detention, be in my classroom at nine o'clock Saturday morning. I've a potion you'll be helping me prepare. Bring your dragonhide gloves.”

“Yes, sir,” they said, before beating a hasty exit.

“Is it just me, or did we just get off really easily?” Harry asked.

“Maybe. Telling us to bring dragonhide gloves could mean that we'll be handling something disgusting,” Draco said, screwing up his nose.

“Or something really poisonous,” Harry said thoughtfully.

********

  
Harry turned out to be right, as Severus had them plucking the petals off aconite before he cut them into thin slices himself. He didn't tell them what potion it was for, but for once Harry wasn't curious enough to speculate. That afternoon was their first sex ed class with Pomfrey, and Harry was more concerned with not making a fool of himself; the Dursleys weren't exactly open about that sort of thing.

In the end, Harry worried about nothing. Pomfrey had taken the class in a large classroom near the hospital wing, and the boys had shuffled in with much quiet sniggering. Pomfrey seemed to be expecting that, as she simply ignored it and got on with her lecture. When she conjured up models of the human body, Harry forgot his own embarrassment when Draco pointed out Theo's; it wasn't often that he looked so discomforted in a classroom, and for once he didn't put up his hand at every question.

The rest of his classes were more enjoyable, especially DADA. Each week Lupin brought in a new dark creature for the class to study, and Harry found he had a natural talent at the subject – once he had a competent teacher, that is. Hagrid's class was also going well. After Hippogriffs, he introduced the class to Kneazles, and Draco was very smug when Hagrid told Hermione that Crookshanks was indeed part Kneazle. She simply shrugged and said she was pleased to have such an intelligent and loyal pet. 

The only class Harry wasn't enjoying (apart from the usual boredom of History of Magic) was Divination. Trelawney was now spotting the Grim, or other death omens, in every single tea cup Harry drank. One lesson, Pansy switched cups with him after they'd drunk their tea; unaware, Trelawney still claimed that Harry's cup was full of doom and gloom. The only bright side was that after Pansy's experiment, Harry lost all doubt about her theory. He still didn't know why Trelawney was hell-bent on predicting his death, but he was no longer worried about dying prematurely. 

He was particularly grateful about this on the day before Halloween. He was on his way to lunch when Daphne ran into the common room crying.

“What's wrong?” he asked at once.

“I br – br – broke up with Stephen,” she sobbed.

“Oh.” Not knowing what else to say, Harry hugged her, looking over her shoulder for someone else. He spotted Pansy emerge from the corridor to the girls' dorm, and beckoned her over in desperation.

“She broke up with Stephen,” he explained.

Pansy frowned. “How come?”

“We got into a stupid fight over what we were going to do in Hogsmeade tomorrow, so I dumped him,” Daphne sniffled.

“Well, you'll find someone better in no time,” Pansy said soothingly. “Plus you dumped him, which is always best.”

Daphne looked at her through red eyes. “But don't you understand? Trelawney said ages ago that my worst fear would come true just before Halloween. And now I'm _single_. And if she's right about this...”

Harry's face grew hot as Daphne turned a tear-streaked face towards him, but Pansy rolled her eyes. “Daphne, your greatest fear is a werewolf, not being single. Remember your Boggart? Trelawney's just making up bullshit again.”

“You think so?” Daphne asked hopefully.

“Yes, I do,” Pansy said firmly. “Now, come to the dorm. I've got a stash of chocolate, and we'll get you back to your usual gorgeous self before we go up to lunch, all right? We need to make Stephen absolutely miserable about making you dump him.”

********

  
On Halloween morning Harry had breakfast with his friends, and tried not to feel jealous as they chatted excitedly about their plans for Hogsmeade. He had his first Patronus lesson with Severus to look forward to, but that wasn't until the afternoon. He walked down to the Entrance Hall as the others lined up; Filch was checking each student's name on his list, glaring at them suspiciously as though he expected them to be smuggling out people who weren't allowed to go.

“Have fun,” Harry said with a forced smile.

“I'll bring you back some sweets from Honeydukes,” Draco promised.

Harry nodded and wandered off. With nothing else to do, he went up to the owlery to visit Hedwig. She was pleased to see him, and he spent a while stroking her as he gazed out over the grounds, thinking about his parents, before heading back down to the dungeons. He hadn't gotten far when he heard someone calling his name, and turned around to find Lupin smiling at him from his office doorway. 

“What are you doing? Why aren't you in Hogsmeade with your friends?”

“I didn't get my form signed,” Harry explained. “And I've got, er, an appointment with Professor Snape this afternoon.”

Lupin studied him before smiling again. “Would you like to come in? I've just had a Grindylow delivered for our next lesson.”

“What's that?” Harry asked as he followed Lupin into his office.

Harry had been in the Defence office twice before. In Quirrell's time, it had been decorated with bunches of garlic and stacks of books, while Lockhart had simply covered the walls with portraits of himself. 

Lupin also had books lining the walls, but in the corner he'd set up a large tank of water. There were clumps of weeds growing in the base of it, and a green creature with horns on its head was standing inside it, staring out at them.

“It's a water demon,” said Lupin, “though unrelated to the Kappas we just studied. They like to grab onto swimmers – see his long fingers? They're strong but fragile; all you need to do is break its grip.”

Harry stared at the Grindylow as it made faces at him. It was all too easy to imagine it wrapping those long fingers around his neck as it held him underwater, and he was relieved when it dove into some weeds.

“I was just going to put the kettle on, if you'd like to join me,” offered Lupin.

“Okay, thanks,” Harry said a little awkwardly.

“I've only got tea bags, but then I expect you're rather sick of tea leaves, aren't you?”

Harry looked up in surprise to find Lupin smiling at him. “You know about that?”

“It's been mentioned in the staff room,” Lupin said lightly. “You should know that Professor Trelawney has apparently predicted the death of a student every year she's been teaching. She's yet to have been proven right.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, I got the feeling she's full of it. Er, I mean...”

Lupin laughed. “You could say that, I suppose.”

Harry gave a relieved laugh, and they lapsed into silence for a minute. 

“So what did you do? To get detention this afternoon, I mean,” Lupin added.

Harry shook his head. “I don't have detention. Snape's going to teach me how to cast a Patronus.”

Lupin's eyebrows shot up. “Really? That's very advanced magic, Harry.”

“So everyone keeps saying. But Snape's a good teacher, and he thinks I can handle it,” Harry said a little defensively.

“I didn't mean to suggest otherwise,” Lupin said mildly. 

“Sorry,” Harry muttered and stared down at his tea cup. 

Lupin broke the short silence. “Was there something bothering you?”

Harry looked up. “You knew my parents, didn't you?” he blurted. “Back when – when you were at Hogwarts.”

Lupin looked surprised again. “Yes. How did you know that?”

“Something I overheard Snape say. And then Draco's mum confirmed it.”

“I see,” Lupin took a sip of tea. “Yes, I was friends with both of your parents.”

Harry stared at him. “Professor? Could you tell me a bit about my dad? Please? Snape's told me about my mum, but I get the feeling he didn't like my dad very much.”

Lupin let out a short laugh. “No, they hated each other, as a matter of fact.”

“Right,” Harry said with a grimace.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Lupin called.

The door opened and Severus walked in carrying a goblet. It was smoking lightly, and smelled familiar to Harry, though he couldn't think what it was. Severus stopped abruptly when he saw Harry sitting there, and a slight frown settled on his face.

“Ah, yes. Thank you very much, Severus. Could you leave it there?” Lupin gestured to the corner of his desk. 

Severus set the goblet down, looking from Lupin to Harry. “I trust you are not in here due to any misdemeanour of yours, Mr Potter?”

Harry shook his head. “No, sir.”

“I was just showing Harry my Grindylow,” Lupin said, pointing at the tank. 

“Riveting,” Severus drawled. “You should drink that immediately, Lupin.”

“Of course.”

“I've an entire cauldronful, if you should require it,” Severus added.

“Thank you, I'll come down tomorrow,” Lupin said. 

Severus nodded curtly. “Mr Potter, I'll see you at two o'clock in my office.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said. Severus frowned at him again before leaving.

Lupin picked up the goblet and took a gulp, immediately screwing up his face. “It's a shame sugar makes this potion useless.”

Harry frowned; he still couldn't think of what the potion smelled of. “What is it?”

“I've been feeling a bit unwell lately. This potion is the only thing that can help, unfortunately. It's rather disgusting,” Lupin took another sip. “Luckily, Professor Snape has agreed to brew it for me. I was never good at Potions, and this one is especially tricky to make. There aren't many people who can make it.”

“Snape's good at what he does,” Harry agreed.

Lupin gave him an odd look before he finished the goblet. “Yes, he is. I have to admit, Harry, it's a little strange seeing you on such good terms with him.”

“Why? He was best friends with my mum,” Harry said.

“Yes, at one point they were close,” Lupin said slowly. “But there are certain, ah, factors, that you may not be aware of.”

“Oh, I know about their fight,” Harry said. “And the whole Death Eater thing.”

“'The whole Death Eater thing',” Lupin echoed faintly. “Yes, I gathered as much after our Boggart lesson. I wasn't aware that was something students knew about.”

“He told me and Draco,” Harry explained. “And I saw his Dark Mark a lot over summer, when he was wearing Muggle clothing.”

“Over summer?”

Harry quickly told Lupin about his summer, from blowing up Aunt Marge to Severus fetching him from the Leaky Cauldron and letting him stay with him for the rest of the break.

“I see,” was all Lupin said at first, then he smiled. “Well, you wanted to know about your father. James would have loved to see you blow up your aunt.”

“Really?” Harry grinned.

Lupin nodded. “He would have found it hilarious. Now, I need to get some work done before tonight's feast, but if you like, I can tell you some more about James some other day.”

Harry stood up at once. “Thanks, I'd like that.”

He glanced at the goblet once more before he left. He didn't know of any potion that would make a goblet continue to smoke like that after the potion itself had been drunk. He frowned in thought all the way to the dungeons, when he decided he'd go flying to clear his mind before he was due to meet Severus. He grabbed his broom, made a quick detour to the kitchens to pick up a sandwich, and headed for the Quidditch pitch. When he got there he found he wasn't alone. 

“Hey, Ginny!”

Ginny was weaving in and out of the goal posts. She looked down when he called her name, and dove down to greet him. 

“Hi, Harry. How come you're not in Hogsmeade?” she asked a bit breathlessly.

“Didn't get my form signed,” Harry said shortly. “How come you're here by yourself?”

“The rest of the team's in Hogsmeade,” Ginny said.

“You made the team? Good for you!” Harry beamed. “Though maybe not for me. You fly really well.”

“Thanks!” Ginny shot him a dazzling smile. “Want to play one-on-one?”

“Sure. But with a Quaffle, not the Snitch. I don't want you learning all my moves,” Harry teased.

“Spoilsport,” Ginny muttered, but she was grinning as she headed for the ball chest.

An hour later they landed, sweaty and laughing, after a close game which Ginny narrowly won.

“How come you didn't try out for Chaser?” Harry asked curiously as they began walking to the castle.

“Because our Chasers are really good, and they fly even better together,” said Ginny. “Whereas we've had shocking Seekers for the past two years. I thought Wood was going to kiss me when I caught the Snitch during try outs.”

Harry laughed. “He seems a little obsessed with Quidditch.”

Ginny shook her head. “You have no idea. We're training three nights a week and the season hasn't even started yet. It's his last year here, you see, and he wants to win the cup before he graduates.”

“Can't say I blame him. I wish I'd been around to see us win the cup my first year,” Harry said a little wistfully. “I was unconscious in the infirmary during the Gryffindor – Ravenclaw match.”

Ginny winced. “Still, at least you got to play out the season.”

They continued chatting about Quidditch until they split up in the Entrance Hall. Harry had time for a quick shower before he grabbed the library books on Patronuses, shoved them in his bag and headed for Severus' office.

“Enter,” Severus called after he'd knocked. 

Harry walked in to find the desk pushed against the wall, leaving a large space in the middle of the office. 

“Leave your bag on the desk, you only require your wand,” Severus said. “Did you read up on Patronuses?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said as he slid his heavy bag off with relief. 

“Good. What's the incantation?”

“ _Expecto patronum_ ,” Harry recited.

“And what must you concentrate on?”

“A happy memory.”

Severus nodded. “Now, we won't be practising on an actual Dementor, as it wouldn't take too kindly to being used as an experiment. I shall think of a suitable substitute, but for today we will focus on the spell itself.”

Harry bit his lip. “Why don't you see if Lupin still has that Boggart?”

“A Boggart?” 

“Well, I'm not a hundred per cent on this, but I'm pretty sure my Boggart would be a Dementor,” Harry explained.

Severus frowned in thought. “It could work, and is definitely preferable to transfiguring something into a Dementor. I've never heard of someone doing that before, and I'm unsure a transfigured Dementor could even cause the proper psychological effects... I'll talk to Lupin before our next lesson. It's a good idea, Harry.”

“Thanks,” grinned Harry.

“Do you have any questions before we begin?”

“Is there any way to tell what animal my Patronus will be?”

“Not until you succeed in casting the spell. Your Patronus will be tied to some quality in your personality, or to an animal you have a special affinity for,” Severus explained. “However, they usually take the form of non-magical creatures, and extinct animals are quite rare.”

“Too bad, a T-rex Patronus would've been cool,” Harry said, only half joking.

Severus rolled his eyes but gave Harry an amused smile. “Indeed. Now, if you'd like to tear your mind away from _Jurassic Park_ , I'll demonstrate.”

Harry nodded eagerly. “Sorry.”

“ _Expecto patronum_ ,” Severus said clearly.

Harry watched in awe as a silvery doe burst out of Severus' wand. She cantered around the room once, before coming to a stop next to Severus. 

“Wow,” Harry breathed. “Can I touch it?”

Severus shrugged. “If you want. You won't feel anything. When one talks about a corporeal Patronus, that simply means it has an identifiable shape, as opposed to indistinct mist.”

Harry reached out and stroked the doe's neck. His hand slipped beneath the surface, but the doe reacted as if she'd felt his touch. Harry dropped his hand and looked at Severus expectantly.

“Choose a happy memory and focus on it,” Severus instructed him.

Harry frowned momentarily before he thought of the first time he'd flown a broomstick. Of the way he'd soared easily through the air, and of Draco throwing apples for him to catch.

“Okay,” he said.

“Keep focusing on that memory, and say the incantation,” Severus said quietly.

Harry nodded. “ _Expecto patronum_.”

The tip of his wand glowed briefly and a brief puff of silver mist trailed out, but that was it. He stared at it dejectedly.

“That was a good first attempt, Harry. This is after all quite an advanced spell. Just focus on your memory and try again.”

Harry shut his eyes briefly as he remembered the feeling of flying for the first time. “ _Expecto patronum_.”

There was more mist this time, but that was the only improvement.

“Perhaps choose a stronger memory,” Severus suggested.

Harry wracked his brain before settling on his first party in the Slytherin common room, and dancing with his friends. 

“ _Expecto patronum!_ ”

This time a ball of silvery mist burst from his wand. It hovered in the air for a few seconds before dissipating. 

Severus nodded his approval. “Try that memory again.”

Harry tried it again. And again, and again, until he'd lost count of how many times he'd tried. Each time, the silvery mist grew brighter, but it still wasn't taking the shape of an animal. Not unless there was an animal shaped like a large bowl.

“Does it always take this long to learn?” Harry panted eventually.

“The fact that you can produce a non-corporeal Patronus at all at your age is an achievement, Harry,” Severus replied. “Once more, perhaps with a different memory, and then that's it for today.”

This time, Harry thought of the feast they'd had at the end of last year, after they'd destroyed Riddle's diary. He focused very clearly on the feeling of being reunited with his friends after being possessed for so long; of Hermione returning from the infirmary, cured of being Petrified; and of Draco leaving his side only to get revenge on Lockhart.

“ _Expecto patronum!_ ”

Something smaller than his shield Patronus burst from his wand. It was too blurry to tell what it was, but he could make out its head and legs. It took a few steps before it disappeared. Harry stared after it with wide eyes. 

“Excellent,” Severus said, briefly resting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

“Can I try once more?” Harry asked hopefully.

Severus studied him. “Once. You don't want to exhaust yourself.”

“ _Expecto patronum!_ ” Harry shouted.

This time there was no mistaking the animal that emerged from his wand. It bounded around the room on skittish legs before it eventually faded away. 

“It's a fawn,” whispered Harry. “Is that – is it because you're teaching me, and yours is a doe?

He looked up to see a strange mixture of expressions flitting over Severus' face. He shook his head briefly before looking back at Harry calmly. 

“No, the form of an instructor's Patronus will not influence a student's. If that was the case, mine would be a cat,” Severus said. “As I said earlier, the form of your Patronus reveals something about your own identity.”

“Right,” Harry nodded. 

“You did remarkably well, even if there were no Dementors around,” Severus continued. “I will see what I can do about sourcing a Boggart for our next lesson. You should get some rest before the feast tonight.”

Harry walked back to the desk to retrieve his bag. “Thank you for today, sir.”

Severus merely nodded. Harry paused in the doorway before he shut door, and looked back. Severus was standing still, staring at the spot Harry's Patronus had disappeared from. He didn't look up as Harry shut the door behind him.


	8. In Which Black Menaces Hogwarts, Gemma gets Protective and Draco Makes a Startling Discovery

Harry was lying on his bed drawing when the others returned from Hogsmeade. Draco headed straight for him and swung a large bag onto his bed. 

“What's that?” Harry sat up.

“I told you I was going to bring you back some sweets from Honeydukes,” Draco said.

Harry peered inside the bag. “Is there anything left in the shop?”

“One usually thanks the person who has given one a gift, Potter,” Draco said haughtily.

Harry laughed. “Thanks. Really. Here, sit and tell me all about it.”

Draco drew the curtains shut as he sat down and excitedly told Harry all about Hogsmeade and the shops they'd visited. “And then I ended up at the Three Broomsticks with Hermione and Pansy for a Butterbeer; there should be one in that bag for you. And you won't believe what we saw!”

“What?” Harry asked, digging through his bag for the promised Butterbeer. 

“Daphne snogging Finnigan.”

Harry looked up. “But she was crying over Stephen yesterday.”

Draco smirked. “Ancient history, apparently. Pansy's beside herself with excitement.”

“Well, I have to say this is an improvement. I never understood what she saw in Stephen,” Harry screwed up his nose.

“Me neither,” Draco agreed. “So, how did your lesson with Snape go?”

Harry grinned. “I did it. I can cast a Patronus.”

Draco's eyes widened. “Really? What is it?”

“A fawn.”

“Hmm,” Draco tilted his head. “I don't really think of a deer when I think of you.”

“Yeah, I don't know where that came from. Snape's is a doe, so I thought I was maybe unconsciously copying his, you know, 'cause he's the one teaching me, but he said that doesn't happen.”

Draco hummed thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Draco said quickly. “We should go up to the feast.”

The Great Hall had been decorated since that morning. Hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins lit it up with an orange glow, along with orange flaming streamers that floated around under the ceiling, along with live bats. 

The feast was delicious as usual, and the third year Slytherins all managed second helpings as they talked about their day in Hogsmeade. Pansy tried teasing Daphne about Seamus, but she just giggled and said he was a better kisser than Stephen was, so Pansy gave up. 

The highlight of the feast was the Hogwarts ghosts doing some choreographed routines above the crowds, and Nearly Headless Nick was a hit when he re-enacted his own execution. Harry wasn't surprised to see that Moaning Myrtle didn't join in. It was just after midnight when the students were eventually sent to bed.

Draco flopped onto his bed with a dramatic moan. “I'm so full.”

“You've still got all those lollies from Honeydukes to eat,” Harry reminded him with a grin.

“Ugh, don't talk about that now, I think I'd explode,” Draco groaned. 

They got changed into their pyjamas, but no one was tired yet, so Harry joined Blaise and Theo on the floor for a game of poker. He was just trying to convince Draco to join them when the door burst open.

“We've been called back into the Great Hall,” Reed said in a serious tone. “Immediately.”

Harry quickly put on his dressing gown as they wandered out into the common room, where the rest of the house was slowly making their way out under the Prefects' directions. In the Entrance Hall they joined up with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, who were also all in their pyjamas and looking just as confused as the Slytherins. The Gryffindors were already in the Great Hall, still fully dressed and looking very scared.

McGonagall and Flitwick shut the heavy doors after Dumbledore strode in. He looked around the hall with no trace of a smile on his face. “The staff will be searching the castle,” he announced to the silent students. “For your own safety, you will all be spending the night in here. Prefects, I ask you to guard the entrances to the hall, and I'm leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Anything suspicious should be reported to me at once; you can ask one of the ghosts to carry a message. Oh, and you'll be needing these.”

He waved his wand and the tables and benches stacked themselves neatly against one wall. Another flick of his wand and hundreds of puffy purple sleeping bags materialised on the floor. As soon as the teachers had left the students began talking excitedly.

“Come on,” Draco muttered. He grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him over to Hermione. He led them over to one of the tables, where they set up their sleeping bags in relative privacy. 

“What happened?” Harry asked Hermione.

“Sirius Black got into the castle,” she said shakily.

“What?” both boys asked together.

“When we got up to Gryffindor tower, we found the portrait of the Fat Lady slashed to ribbons,” Hermione said. “She wouldn't let him in without the password, so he got angry.”

Draco shot a worried look at Harry and shuffled a little closer in his sleeping bag. “The teachers obviously think he's still in the castle.”

“How'd he get in, though?” Harry asked. “He'd have to get past the Dementors at the gates.”

“He's already gotten past them once, when he escaped from Azkaban. Maybe he has some way of fighting them off,” Draco suggested.

Harry shook his head. “The only thing that works against Dementors is a Patronus, and he'd need a wand for that. Surely we would've heard about someone's wand getting stolen by him.”

“The Ministry could be hushing it up for some reason,” Hermione said darkly. 

Draco shook his head. “I doubt it. If he's gotten hold of a wand it'd be in the Ministry's best interest for the public to be told.”

“Lights out in five minutes,” Gemma informed them as she walked around the hall, before winking at them and lowering her voice. “Try to keep it down, guys.”

They moved closer together to continue whispering. 

“Why'd he go to Gryffindor, though? He should have been trying to get into the dungeons,” Draco wondered. 

“He was supposed to have already been mentally unstable before he was sent to Azkaban, and who knows what twelve years with the Dementors would do to your mental health. He could just be confused,” Hermione offered.

“Or maybe that's where he thought I'd be. My parents were both Gryffindors after all,” Harry mused.

“Lights out! And no more talking!” Percy yelled pompously. Despite the circumstances, it was clear he was enjoying being in charge.

A few seconds later all the candles were extinguished, leaving the hall only faintly lit by the starlight coming from the ceiling, and the ghosts who were floating around conversing with the Prefects. 

Draco leaned over Harry to poke Hermione. “Our Head Girl is so much more fun than your Head Boy.”

She batted his hand away with a quiet laugh. “I'm not going to argue with you about that, Draco.”

“Er, guys? Can this not argument take place not on top of me?” Harry asked. 

“Sorry,” they both whispered. 

“Have they ever thought about _not_ celebrating Halloween here?” asked Draco after a pause.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Just that so far, there's been a troll, a basilisk, and now a mass-murderer. What's next?”

“Maybe a vampire,” said Harry.

“Someone would have to invite them into the castle,” Hermione said.

“I'll do it,” volunteered Draco.

“Pansy would kill you,” murmured Harry. 

They fell silent after that, and Harry rolled over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Despite Percy's best efforts, there were still a lot of whispered conversations going on, and Harry found it hard to get to sleep as he lay there thinking about the search for Black. He had no doubt that Severus or McGonagall could take care of themselves, but what if someone like Trelawney came across Black? He shivered at the thought, making Draco stir.

“Here,” he mumbled sleepily. 

He wriggled closer and threw an arm over Harry's chest protectively before falling back to sleep. Warmed by Draco's body heat, Harry soon fell into a doze.

He woke up some time later to the sound of quiet voices. Draco was now holding onto him like he was a teddy bear, but Harry was able to turn his neck to see what was going on. Gemma was talking to Percy a couple of metres away, and as Harry lifted his head he saw Dumbledore walking towards them. Harry shut his eyes as the Headmaster came closer.

“Any luck, Professor?” Gemma asked.

“No. Everything all right here?”

“I've got it all under control, sir,” Percy replied.

“Good. They can stay here for the rest of the night. I've found a temporary replacement for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move the Gryffindors back tomorrow.”

“And the Fat Lady, sir?” asked Percy.

“She's quite distressed. She refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's taken refuge in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr Filch restore her.”

The door creaked open, and soon Harry heard Severus' quiet footsteps. 

“Headmaster? The search of the third floor has been completed, as well as the dungeons. No sign of him in either.”

“What about the towers?”

“All clear.”

“Very well. I wasn't expecting Black to remain in the castle.”

“Have you any idea of how he may have gotten onto the grounds?” Severus asked.

“Many, Severus, each of them as far-fetched as the others,” Dumbledore sighed.

Harry risked opening his eyes slightly. Gemma and Percy were watching the conversation intently. He couldn't see Dumbledore's face, as he had his back to Harry, but he could see Severus clearly. He looked angry, and very worried.

“You remember the conversation we had in August, Headmaster?” he asked. 

“Yes, Severus,” Dumbledore said warningly.

Severus gave a soft, mirthless laugh. “I won't repeat my concerns about your most recent appointment. I merely wished to know if you'd given any further thought to my suggestion of arranging additional security for, ah, Black's likely target.”

There was a short silence as Severus stared hard at Dumbledore. Gemma was looking calculatingly at Severus.

Dumbledore sighed. “I have not ruled it out as yet.” He held up a hand when Severus opened his mouth angrily. “I have not ruled it out,” he repeated, “but I see no cause to further worry anyone under the circumstances. Now, I must go down and inform the Dementors that we have completed our search.”

“They didn't want to help, sir?” Percy asked.

“Oh yes, they wanted to help. But I refuse to allow a single Dementor into this castle whilst I am Headmaster,” Dumbledore said coldly.

Percy went red as he watched Dumbledore leave the hall. Gemma shook her head contemptuously, gave another thoughtful look at Severus, and then told Percy they should resume their rounds. Harry watched them walk off in opposite directions, before he looked back at Severus.

Severus was frowning at him, but his expression softened somewhat when he met Harry's gaze and he crouched down.

“I'll see you in my office after breakfast this morning,” he said quietly. When Harry nodded, he straightened up and swept out of the hall.

********

  
Harry was jostled awake the next morning by Hermione, who began folding her sleeping bag into a neat bundle once he was awake.

“Good morning,” she said with a sly smile. “I didn't want to wake you; you two looked so cute together.”

Harry turned his head to look at Draco, who was still curled around Harry and glaring blearily at Hermione. 

“It was cold,” he grumbled.

“Uh huh,” Hermione said. She finished with her sleeping bag and stood up. “Anyway, we all need to get up so Dumbledore can put the tables back.”

Harry sat up and looked around. Sure enough, the staff were chivvying everyone to one end of the hall, and Filch was stomping their way, snarling at anyone still asleep.

“Let's get out of here,” he said hastily. 

They joined the press of people along the walls, and a minute later they were seated at their usual tables. 

“This is so embarrassing,” Draco mumbled, smoothing down his dressing gown.

Pansy gave a giant yawn as she reached for the coffee “I'm way too tired to care about my pyjamas.”

“You didn't get any sleep?” Harry piled some bacon onto his plate.

“No. Daphne and Finnigan spent the entire night giggling and snogging,” Pansy grumbled.

“The noises... It was disgusting,” Millicent chimed in. 

Daphne raised an eyebrow. “Please, you'll change your mind if you get a boyfriend.”

Millicent made a face. “No thanks.”

“We spent the night locked in the Great Hall because a mass-murderer was in the castle, and all you can talk about is snogging?” Tracey asked.

“Would you rather we speculated on how he got in?” Draco asked.

“I overheard a Hufflepuff saying he can turn into a shrub,” Daphne giggled.

“I think you meant to say you overheard a moron saying that,” Blaise sniggered.

“What would be the point of that? Was the shrub supposed to just walk through the front doors?” Theo asked. 

“This is why we were talking about snogging,” Pansy said to Tracey. “No one has any idea what happened last night, but gossiping about Daphne's latest boyfriend? That's something we do very well. And about Blaise's latest conquest,” she said, looking at him speculatively.

Blaise smirked. “I'm making progress with Katie Bell. You guys wouldn't mind losing the Quidditch match, would you? Put her in a good mood?”

“I don't think so,” Draco replied. 

“Definitely not,” Harry confirmed. He glanced up at the staff table and saw Severus had already left. “Gotta go, I'll see you guys later.”

He was out in the Entrance Hall when he heard someone calling his name and turned around. 

“Hi Gemma.”

“I'll walk with you,” she said.

“Alright,” he said, looking at her in confusion. “I've got to go see Snape.”

Gemma inexplicably brightened. “Good, that's good.”

“It is?”

“It's because of Black, isn't it? He's after you?”

Harry gaped at her as he followed her down the dungeon stairs. “How did you know that?”

“Something Snape said last night. Plus you're like a magnet for dangerous lunatics.”

“Cheers.”

“Oh, don't be like that, you know it's true,” Gemma said. She fell silent as she knocked on Severus' door.

“Enter.”

They walked in and found Severus seated at his desk with the _Daily Prophet_ spread open before him. He looked up and frowned. “Miss Farley, I need to speak to Mr Potter in private. Kindly wait outside if you wish to speak to me.”

Gemma shook her head. “Sir, I know Black's after Harry, and I want to know what you've got planned. I could help.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you think that you could do?”

“I won't know that unless you tell me what you've got planned, sir,” Gemma shot back. 

Severus narrowed his eyes in thought before nodding slightly. “I hardly need to tell you to keep this information to yourself, I hope.”

“Of course not.”

“Very well. As it turns out, this solves a problem of mine. I needed someone to supervise Quidditch training, but it would have attracted undue attention if Madam Hooch suddenly began attending.”

Gemma smiled in satisfaction. “I can do that. I can say I need a break from Head Girl duties on occasion, and want to make sure my replacement as Beater knows what she's doing.”

“She does,” Harry assured her. 

“Excellent,” Severus looked at Gemma appraisingly. “May I ask where your determination to protect Mr Potter comes from?”

Gemma shrugged. “Us half-blood Slytherins need to stick together. Plus how are we going to win the Quidditch Cup if something happens to our Seeker?”

“Indeed. Thank you, Miss Farley, that will be all. I really do need to talk to Mr Potter in private.”

“Yes, Professor,” Gemma winked at Harry as she left.

“How much of the conversation last night did you hear, Harry?” Severus asked once the door was shut.

“Er, all of it, sir.”

“I thought as much. You are aware then that the Headmaster feels you are suitably protected by the Dementors and staff?”

“Yes, sir. I take it you don't agree?”

“Not at all,” Severus scowled. “Harry, I want you to stay away from Lupin.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he was friends with Black, and may wish to continue the relationship now Black has escaped.”

“You think he's going to help Black?” Harry guessed.

“I do not know his intentions, but I have my suspicions. The fact remains that Black was able to gain access to the castle.”

“And you think Lupin helped him just because they used to know each other? That's a bit unfair, isn't it? You used to know Black, _and_ you were a Death Eater,” Harry objected, then hastily added, “sir.”

Severus glared at him. “I would sooner propose to Trelawney in the Great Hall than help that bastard do a single thing.”

Harry felt guilt coil in his stomach. “Sorry, sir. I just meant that I don't want to judge Lupin based on who he used to know. Draco's dad nearly got Hermione and me killed last year, but I'm not going to avoid Draco anytime soon.”

Severus continued to glare at him, before exhaling loudly. “I see your point,” he ground out. “But I urge you to be on your guard around him.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed. 

“I also ask that you refrain from wandering the grounds if you can at all help it. Don't walk to or from Quidditch alone, and don't go visit Hagrid by yourself. And under no circumstances are you to go near the Forbidden Forest. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I understand you may find these measures restrictive, but they're for your own safety,” Severus said in a softer voice. “With any luck, Black will be caught soon, and this can all be forgotten. But until that occurs, try to keep yourself out of danger.”

“Yes, sir.”

Severus smiled slightly. “One more thing. You might want to keep your Invisibility Cloak on you. You never know when it might come in handy.”

********

  
As it turned out, it wasn't just Severus who thought Harry was in danger. He now found teachers making excuses to walk along the corridors with him between classes, and Trelawney's predictions of his death had become even more detailed. He did his best to ignore her, and usually spent Divination classes talking to Pansy and Daphne about anything other than tea leaves. Greg and Vince were the only ones who seemed to believe her, and had started avoiding Harry like he had some contagious disease.

Harry's escape from everything was once again Quidditch. Despite the fact that the weather was getting colder and wetter as November began, he was always happy to get to training, which was now taking place three times a week in the lead up to their match. Apart from Draco, the rest of the team was either unaware that Black was supposed to be after Harry, or they were simply ignoring it. Either way, it worked for Harry.

Adrian was a much better captain than Flint had been, in Harry's opinion. Instead of simply telling the team what they were doing wrong, Adrian took the time to give them suggestions as to how they could improve. Gemma's attendance also helped. Although she was sticking to her cover story of simply coming out to take a break, she invariably became drawn in to their drills, and she was especially helpful with Millicent and Theo.

During the last Defence class before the match, the Slytherins were surprised to see Severus waiting for them when they entered the classroom.

“Professor Lupin is unwell,” he said by way of explanation. “Now, as he's not left any record of the topics you've covered so far – yes, Mr Nott?” 

“We've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas and Grindylows, sir,” Theo recited.

“Thank you, Mr Nott, but I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's disorganisation.”

“Sir, he's the best Defence teacher we've had,” Harry said. The rest of the class nodded.

“Thus far you've been taught by a vassal of the Dark Lord and an incompetent fool, which is hardly exalted competition. Now, today we will study werewolves.”

Daphne gave a squeak and hunched down in her seat.

Tracey raised her hand. “Sir, we aren't due to study werewolves until the end of the year.”

“Maybe not under Professor Lupin, but I'm taking today's class, Miss Davis,” Severus said coolly. “Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four.”

The class did as it was told, though Harry noticed Tracey and Theo having a furious silent conversation with each other.

“Who can tell me how to differentiate between a werewolf and an ordinary wolf?”

Harry spent the lesson feeling as though there was something he was missing. Between themselves, Theo and Tracey were able to answer all of Severus' questions, although none of the rest of the class had read that far in their text. 

“I want you all to summarise the ways to recognise and kill a werewolf, to be handed in during tomorrow's Potions class,” Severus announced after the bell rang. 

The class muttered among themselves as they filed out of the room. 

“What the hell was that about?” Draco asked once they were out of earshot. 

“Was he like that last year when he covered for Lockhart?” Harry asked.

“No, that lesson was hilarious,” Theo said fondly. “He ripped Lockhart to shreds, but that was entirely deserved. This was weird.”

“Maybe it was personal,” Harry suggested to Draco later that night as they followed the rest of the class back to the dungeons after their Astronomy lesson. 

“What was personal?”

“Snape in class today.”

Draco shrugged. “Probably, they did go to school together. Doesn't explain why he made us skip ahead to werewolves, though.”

“Maybe Lupin's a werewolf,” Harry joked.

Draco snorted. “Yes, that's likely, isn't it? Because -” he stopped and grabbed Harry's arm. “Oh my god, it _is_ likely.”

“What?”

Draco stared at Harry. “Think about it. Lupin's sick all the time: he was off work today, and Snape made him that potion on Halloween. God, even Mother told me that in her letter!”

Harry looked at him doubtfully. “Being sick a lot doesn't make him a werewolf. There must be plenty of diseases like that.”

“Yes, but it's the full moon tonight,” Draco said. “You were just in Astronomy class!”

“Alright, alright,” Harry held up his hands. “So he's sick just before the full moon...”

“What about his Boggart? It has to be the moon; it's so obvious, I don't know how I missed that.”

Harry took a second to remember it. “Okay, you've convinced me. Lupin's a werewolf. I don't see what the big deal is. They're not that rare, are they?”

Draco stared at him incredulously. “The big deal is that they're incredibly dangerous!”

“Yeah, sure, on the full moon. So we avoid him then. I bet he locks himself in his room or something when he turns anyway.”

“You're such a Muggle sometimes,” Draco muttered. “Werewolves are dangerous _all_ the time. Everyone knows that.”

“That's stupid,” Harry retorted. “What, you think Lupin's going to attack you just because he's a werewolf once a month? That makes no sense.”

Doubt flickered in Draco's eyes before he shook his head. “They're untrustworthy. Ask anyone.”

“Draco, people say that about Slytherins, too.”

Draco looked at him uncertainly. “But -”

“Have you ever heard your dad talk about werewolves?”

“Once or twice...”

“And what did he say? Exactly what you're telling me now, right?”

Draco grimaced. “He went a little further, actually. He's of the opinion they should be killed.”

“And do you agree with your dad usually? What about Muggle-borns? Half-bloods? Blood-traitors?” 

Draco sighed. “I see your point.”

“Thank you,” Harry said in relief. “Look, I agree with you that it seems likely Lupin's a werewolf, but I don't think we need to worry about it. And I really don't think we should tell anyone, either.”

Draco looked away and pursed his lips. “Alright,” he said, then pouted at Harry. “When did you get so good at arguing?”

Harry slung his arm around Draco's waist. “I must have picked it up from you.”

“You couldn't have picked up some hair care tips from me while you were at it?” Draco asked as he put his arm around Harry's shoulders.

“Git. We better hurry, we need to do that thing on werewolves for Snape before bed.”

“Do you think we'll get extra marks if we just write 'Lupin is a werewolf'?” Draco asked.


	9. In Which Harry Once Again Worries Everyone by Ending up in the Infirmary

By the day of the match against Gryffindor, the weather had become a full-fledged thunderstorm. The Slytherin team sat at the breakfast, giving occasional despondent looks at the ceiling whenever there was a particularly bright flash of lightning. Theo was quietly counting the time between lightning and thunder, and depressing them all with the knowledge that the storm hadn't even properly reached them yet. 

“We should go get changed, I suppose,” Adrian said, able to put it off no longer. 

As the team followed him out of the hall, Gemma stopped Harry as he passed her.

“Can I see your glasses?”

Harry handed them over, puzzled. Gemma peered at them before smiling. “ _Impervius_ ,” she said as she tapped them with her wand. “The rain won't affect them now. Sort of like windscreen wipers, but far more efficient.”

“Thanks, Gemma!” Harry said gratefully, before hurrying after the rest of the team. 

They sprinted down to the changing rooms, and Harry was pleased to see that Gemma's spell worked as promised. After getting changed, the team sat huddled miserably on the benches as they waited for Adrian to give his speech.

“Alright, team,” he said grimly. “The weather couldn't be worse, but there's nothing we can do about that. What we can do is beat Gryffindor like we always do. They'll be hating the weather as much as we are, so let's use that to our advantage, alright? Draco, Scarlett, let's keep it simple with the Quaffle; it's going to be slippery, so nice easy passes. Miles, Theo and Millicent, keep moving. Visibility will be low, and our robes will be harder to see in the gloom than their red ones, so keep moving to confuse them. And Harry, get that Snitch as fast as you can so we can all come back for a hot shower, alright?”

The team gave a weak cheer before picking up their brooms and heading outside. Out on the pitch the rain was coming down harder than ever, and the thunder and lightning were getting more frequent. Harry couldn't hear the crowd at all over the howling of the wind, and wondered how they would be able to hear Hooch's whistle during the game. The captains shook hands and then the teams were up in the air. 

It was the oddest Quidditch match Harry had ever played in. He was desperately glad that as Seeker, he could keep to himself, because he had no idea what was going on in the match. He couldn't hear a thing over the storm, not even the commentary. He could see the other players, but not well enough to pick out who was who if they were more than fifty metres away, and he hated to think what his vision would've been like without Gemma. The only players he could identify easily were Draco and the Weasleys, because of their bright hair. He spent the match flying in circles around the pitch, wishing the Snitch would hurry up and make an appearance. 

The storm was getting worse, and it was getting very dark, very quickly. Harry didn't know how long they'd been playing when a flash of lightning lit up the sky. In the few seconds of brightness, he caught sight of the dog. It was at the top of one of the stands, which were rather empty today, and it was staring straight at Harry. He came to a stop as he peered at the stand, but by the next flare of lightning, it had gone. 

Harry shook his head and resumed his search for the Snitch. He'd just seen Ginny, and was drawing closer to her when she suddenly banked hard and took off. Harry sped up, although by this point he didn't really care who caught the Snitch, as long as the game ended.

He was gaining on her quite quickly, as her old broom was no match for his Nimbus 2001. He'd just spotted the Snitch glimmering in the darkness in front of her, when a sudden silence descended on him. The wind stopped howling, though it continued to blow sheets of rain into his face. And then a wave of coldness swept over him, chilling him more than the rain ever had. He sensed movement down on the pitch and looked down, instantly wishing he hadn't. 

The pitch was crawling with Dementors, all of whom had their faces upturned. His insides turned to ice as he watched them, and then came the screams. He knew it was his mother this time as white mist obscured his vision, and then the screaming was all he knew. 

“ _Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!_ ”

“ _Stand aside, you silly girl... Stand aside, now..._ ”

“ _Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead! Not Harry! Please... Have mercy... Have mercy!_ ”

A cold voice laughing at her pleading was the last thing Harry was aware of before he passed out.  


********

  
Harry awoke to the sound of whispering and a body full of pain. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing or where he was, but there was a niggling fear at the back of his mind.

Harry forced his eyes open to find himself lying in the hospital wing. The rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team and Hermione were standing around his bed. All of them were drenched and covered in mud.

“Harry! Are you okay?” Scarlett asked. She looked scared and had pressed herself to Millicent's side, who had an arm around her protectively.

Harry didn't reply for a minute, as all his memories of the match had suddenly come flooding back. He stifled a gasp and struggled upright. “What happened?” he croaked.

“You fell off your broom when the Dementors arrived,” Millicent said. 

“You fell so far, we all thought you'd died,” Theo added. 

Hermione made a hiccoughing noise and buried her face on Draco's shoulder. 

“But what happened with the match?” Harry pressed.

Adrian cleared his throat. “Don't blame yourself, Harry.”

“We lost?”

“Ginny caught the Snitch just as you were falling. She was pretty upset, actually, tried to deny she had it,” Draco said approvingly.

Harry buried his face in his hands. “Oh, fuck.”

He felt someone climb onto the bed and put their arms around him. 

“It's okay,” Scarlett said in his ear. “It just means we need to win our next matches by a bigger margin, that's all. The main thing is that you're alive.”

“Thanks,” Harry said quietly.

He sat there in Scarlett's embrace, listening to the rest of the team discussing their prospects for the rest of the season, before Pomfrey bustled over. 

“Two visitors only, now, this boy needs rest,” she said. She clucked her tongue disapprovingly as Scarlett clambered off the bed, leaving a large amount of mud in her wake. “ _Scourgify_ ,” Pomfrey said, cleaning the muck off his bed before shooing the team out.

Draco and Hermione moved closer to the bed. 

“It was Dumbledore who saved you,” Hermione said. “He ran onto the pitch and slowed your fall just before you hit the ground. Then he turned his wand on the Dementors and shot some silvery stuff at them – I suppose it must have been a Patronus. Anyway, they left the stadium immediately, and then he conjured you a stretcher and floated you up here.”

“I didn't realise right away what had happened. I looked down when I felt the Dementors, and saw someone falling. I dove down – most of us did, I think – when the Dementors started leaving, and saw it was you. You looked like you'd died,” Draco said in a choked voice. 

Harry stared miserably at his knees. His friends' experience sounded awful, but all he could think about was the sound of his mother's begging. He said the first thing he could think of to change the subject.

“Did someone get my Nimbus?”

“Flitwick fetched it. He brought it in just before you woke up,” Draco said slowly.

“Flitwick? Why'd he have it?”

“Well, it had to be someone who could handle the Whomping Willow. It's a pretty violent tree, apparently,” Hermione winced. “Your broom got blown into it and, well, the Whomping Willow fought back.”

Harry looked between them. “What happened?”

Hermione gave a worried look at Draco, before bending down. She upturned a bag onto the bed. Out tumbled a collection of splintered wood and twigs. Harry stared at it in dismay, picking up a piece that had some of the label on it.

“But you still have your Nimbus 2000, right? So it's not that bad,” Draco said encouragingly.

“Yeah... Yeah, I guess,” Harry said slowly.

Pomfrey came over again, this time carrying a mug of hot chocolate. “Alright, time to go. You can come back tomorrow, but he needs to rest now.”

Hermione swept the remains of Harry's broom into the bag before they allowed Pomfrey to usher them out.

“ _Draco! You know where my Cloak is, right?_ ” Harry called quickly.

Draco stopped on the threshold of the door. “ _Of course. I'll be back just after curfew._ ”

Harry looked at the clock on the bedside table. Only five hours to go then, he thought as he sipped his hot chocolate.

********

  
A few minutes after Pomfrey had come to collect Harry's dinner tray and turn out the lights, the infirmary door creaked open.

“Is she gone?” Draco's voice came from beside Harry's bed.

“Yeah, she's in her office,” Harry whispered. “But keep the Cloak on.”

“Move over then,” Draco ordered.

Harry did so, and then saw the bed clothes compress as Draco climbed on top, and then Draco was pressing against his side. He pulled down the hood so that his head was visible.

“I brought you some more chocolate, if you want any,” he offered.

“Urgh, I've had enough for the rest of the year, I think,” Harry moaned. 

Draco chuckled quietly. “More for me, then.”

“Thanks for coming. I really didn't want to be alone tonight,” Harry said gratefully.

“No problem. Are you alright?”

“Not really,” Harry said quietly. 

There was a fumbling sound, then Draco's arm appeared out of thin air and slid around his shoulders. “You never told me what they make you remember,” he said.

Harry looked him. “I heard my mum pleading for my life, before she – before Voldemort murdered her,” he said. 

Draco blanched. “Oh, god. No wonder they affect you so badly.”

Harry smiled sadly. “Yeah... On the train I only heard her screaming, but today the memory went for longer. It's the only memory I have of her voice.”

Draco tightened his hold on Harry. “I can't even imagine anything happening to Mother. I'm staying here for the night.”

“You're not worried about Snape?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. “No, I checked with Ollie that he was in his office before I came up, and I told Theo I was going to bed early.”

“Good. I don't want you getting in trouble because of me.”

“Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.”

********

  
Despite Draco's presence, Harry only slept fitfully that night, as he kept dreaming about his mother's voice and seeing flashes of green light. Dementors surrounded him, choking him with their scabbed hands as Voldemort laughed in the background. Just after six o'clock, he woke for the last time, and gave up on getting anymore sleep. He lay in bed watching the windows slowly lighten in the dawn. The Invisibility Cloak had slipped down in the night, and now Draco's shoulders were visible. After the dreams he'd had, the sight gave Harry the feeling he was in bed with half a corpse.

When he saw the light in Pomfrey's office come on he hurriedly shook Draco awake. He snuck out with the promise to return with Hermione after breakfast. Harry picked at his food while he waited, though Pomfrey was adamant that he needed to finish the block of chocolate she gave him. He dutifully forced it down – he really was sick of the taste by now – and then happily accepted the pot of tea she brought out for him. 

He was sipping his tea and trying to convince himself that his Nimbus 2000 was still a perfectly good broom when Draco returned with both Hermione and Ginny.

“We've come to save you from boredom,” Draco announced, dumping his chess set, a pack of Exploding Snap and some of Harry's drawing kit onto his bed.

“Thanks, guys,” Harry said.

Draco and Hermione sat down in the chairs next to the bed, but Ginny hovered uncertainly near the foot of the bed.

“Are you going to join us?” Harry asked her.

Ginny twisted the hem of her jumper nervously. “No. I just... I wanted to apologise. For yesterday. I never would have caught the Snitch if I'd known you'd fallen off your broom.”

Harry shrugged. “You won, fair and square. And you flew really well. At least, from what I could see. Sit down.”

Ginny hesitated. “No, I should go, I feel terrible.”

“You should,” Draco said, then grinned. “I'm joking. Even I can admit that you didn't do anything wrong. And at least it meant we could get out of the rain.”

Ginny smiled faintly and took the chair on the other side of the bed. “I think they might have ended the match anyway, once Harry fell off his broom.”

“Can we stop talking about Quidditch, please?” Hermione interrupted.

“Fine. Exploding Snap?” Draco held up the pack.

They only managed one game before Pomfrey came over to ask them to play something more suitable for a hospital wing. Draco and Ginny began playing chess at the foot of the bed, and she turned out to be quite good at it, to Draco's satisfaction.

“My brothers taught me how to play when I was little,” she explained as her bishop took out Draco's queen.

“Barbaric,” Hermione muttered to Harry. 

She was leaning against the pillows with him, flipping through his latest sketchbook as he drew a rough picture of the chess game. 

“I'm detecting a distinct theme in your artwork,” she murmured. 

Harry looked over and turned bright red as she flipped through a bunch of drawings of Draco. “Hermione!” he hissed.

“Oh, relax, they're too engrossed by their murderous chessmen to pay any attention,” Hermione said calmly. As if to prove her point, Draco's knight decapitated Ginny's bishop. “But you know I'm right. You should do something about it.”

“Like what?” Harry asked, resigned to the fact that Hermione wasn't dropping the topic anytime soon. Despite his misgivings, he was genuinely curious about what she thought.

“Ask him out, of course,” she whispered in his ear. “Oh, don't look like that. He'd say yes.”

Harry looked at her doubtfully. “What if he says no?”

“He won't. But even if he does, what's the worst that could happen?”

“You mean apart from one of my best friends hating me?”

Hermione gave him one of her looks that let him know how stupid she thought he was being. “He wouldn't. Would you hate me if I asked you out?”

“Of course not! It'd just be weird for a bit, I guess. Oh,” Harry smiled ruefully. “Guess I walked into that one.”

Hermione smirked. “Just take my advice, okay? You know I'm right.”

“I'll think about it,” Harry conceded. “If you're so good at relationship stuff, why don't you have a boyfriend?”

“Because I don't like anyone,” Hermione replied.

Harry considered her. “What about Theo? He's just as nerdy as you are. You could bond over your disturbing love of books.”

Hermione hit his leg. “Ignoring the fact that we _have_ bonded over books – platonically, that is – he's not my type. Plus he's already going out with Tracey.”

Harry stared at her. “What?”

“You didn't know?”

“No! Draco! Did you know that Theo and Tracey are dating?”

Draco frowned over at them. “Since when?”

“Last summer.”

Draco stared from her to Harry. “How did we not know this? How did _Pansy_ not know this?”

“I guess they're just a little more subtle than some people,” Hermione said pointedly. 

Both boys blushed at that. Ginny, who had been listening in amusement, looked between them and opened her mouth, before she seemed to think better of it. She nodded and bent her head down instead. Harry didn't like the smile he could see through her hair. 

Ginny stood up soon after that. “I've got a lot of homework to catch up on,” she explained.

Harry nodded. “Hey, you want to go flying sometime? I need to get used to my old broom again, and it'd be good to practise with the Snitch against another Seeker.”

“Sure. On the weekend, though, we usually train during the week. You know where to find me,” she said, then smiled and walked out.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Flying with an opposing Seeker? Really?”

“We won't play them again for another year,” Harry pointed out.

“I suppose,” Draco said grudgingly. “What were you two whispering about earlier?”

“Nothing,” Harry blurted.

“Nothing? That's why you've turned red?” Draco's eyebrow shot up again.

“We were talking about the sexual education classes Pomfrey's teaching, and I was telling Harry about the first time I got my period,” Hermione lied smoothly.

Draco screwed up his nose. “I don't want to know.”

As Draco began packing up his chess set, Harry leaned his head on Hermione's shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Don't thank me yet. We're continuing our conversation at a later date,” Hermione replied.

********

  
Draco was in the middle of trying to convince Pomfrey that he and Hermione should be allowed to stay in the infirmary during dinner when Severus swept into the room.

“Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger, he'll be fine if you leave him alone for an hour,” he declared. 

“But, sir -”

“ _Now_ , Mr Malfoy. I need to speak to Mr Potter in private.”

Draco grumbled but followed Hermione out the door.

“Poppy, if you wouldn't mind?”

“Not at all. I'll be in my office if you need anything,” Pomfrey said. 

Severus sat down and looked at Harry intently. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess. Really sick of chocolate, though.”

Severus gave a small smile. “Yes, I imagine you would be by now. But you have no lingering effects from the Dementors?”

“Just some bad dreams,” Harry shrugged. 

Severus frowned. “Madam Pomfrey didn't offer you any Dreamless Sleep?”

“No. They weren't that bad, it helped that Draco -” Harry snapped his mouth shut.

Severus snorted. “I suspected he may have spent the night in here.”

“You're not going to punish him, are you?” Harry asked worriedly.

“No, although he will be spending tonight in the dormitory where he belongs.”

Harry accepted this, glad he hadn't gotten Draco into trouble.

“As fascinating as I find Mr Malfoy's disregard for school rules, I came to talk to you about a more serious matter.”

Harry watched in trepidation as Severus looked away. It wasn't like him to be unsure of something, and it unnerved Harry.

“I assume you still wish to continue our Patronus lessons?” Severus asked.

“Of course I do,” Harry said, puzzled. 

Severus nodded to himself. He opened his mouth, shut it again, then leaned forward slightly. “If I do manage to locate a Boggart for future lessons, I need you to tell me what it is that the Dementors make you remember.”

“I'm not sure you want to know,” Harry mumbled as he started to pick at a loose thread on the quilt cover.

“Harry, I take no pleasure in prying into something so private. But if I am to subject you to those memories repeatedly, I need to know what they are,” Severus said quietly.

Harry looked at him miserably and swallowed hard. “I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum.”

Severus turned alarmingly white and his hands clenched in his lap. 

“I told you you didn't want to know,” Harry said bitterly.

Severus frowned and cleared his throat. “That is... Not unexpected. I had hoped I was wrong, but given your reactions to Dementors thus far...” He cleared his throat again before he continued. “Under the circumstances, I believe I shall delay the introduction of the Boggart until you can reliably produce a Patronus on your own. The more confident you are in casting one, the less you will be affected by the Boggart.”

“You hope,” Harry guessed.

“Yes,” Severus admitted. 

“Well, at least you're honest.”

“I won't lie to you, especially not about this. You deserve to know what you'll be facing.”

“Right. Thanks.”

Severus shifted uncomfortably. “Don't be discouraged.”

“I'm not. You could have just thrown me in the deep end to begin with.”

“That would be a remarkably foolish course of action. The better warned you are, the better you can prepare yourself. I won't pretend that it will be easy for you – or me, for that matter – but I have faith that you can succeed in this,” Severus said with quiet conviction.

Harry felt warmed by Severus' belief in him, and couldn't stop from grinning. “Thank you, Sev – er, sir.”

Severus gave a resigned smile. “Severus is fine. Though only in private, of course.”

Harry's grin broadened. “Cool. Thanks.” 

Severus nodded and stood up. “There is to be another Hogsmeade trip on the last Saturday of term. I'll see you in my office for our next lesson.”

“Alright. Thanks, Severus.”

Severus nodded again, and then rested a hand on Harry's shoulder, gripping it slightly. “You would do well not to dwell on those memories in the meantime. You cannot change the past, and Lily gave her life so that you may live yours. She would want you to be happy.”

Harry blinked to dispel the tears that gathered at the unexpected tenderness. He nodded, not trusting his voice, and watched as Severus walked briskly out of the room.


	10. In Which Harry Receives Some Very Interesting Gifts

November went by quickly, and soon the castle began to get decorated for Christmas. When the Heads of House went around getting a list of students staying at school Hogwarts over the holidays, both Draco and Hermione signed up. Draco claimed it was because Narcissa was going to be busy with Ministry and charity galas, and Hermione said she wanted access to the library, but Harry knew they were staying to keep him company. 

On the morning of the Hogsmeade visit, Harry sat at breakfast and listened to his friends planning their Christmas shopping. He wasn't jealous this time; he'd used Hedwig to order his presents again, and was looking forward to his next Patronus lesson. 

“So what are you doing while we're gone?” Draco asked as they finished breakfast.

“Well, I'm seeing Snape again this afternoon. And I thought I might go flying with Ginny,” Harry said. “In fact, I'll go talk to her now. You guys have fun.”

He made his way over to the Gryffindor table, where Ginny was sitting with her brothers. 

“Hi Ginny. Fred, George,” he said, deliberately ignoring Ron.

“What brings you to our table this fine morning?” one of the twins asked. 

“Ginny, actually. You feel like going flying this morning? We should have the pitch to ourselves with everyone at Hogsmeade.”

“Sure. I'll meet you there after breakfast,” Ginny smiled up at him. 

“Why aren't you going to Hogsmeade?” the other twin asked curiously. 

“Probably scared of the Dementors,” Ron sniggered. 

Ginny whacked him in the back of the head and glared at him. “Shut it, Ron.”

“Didn't get my form signed. My aunt and uncle don't like me very much,” Harry told the twins. “I'll see you soon, Ginny.”

He was out in the Entrance Hall when his arms were grabbed from behind. He looked up to see the twins smiling conspiratorially at him. 

“Come with us,” one of them said. 

“Do I have a choice?” Harry asked.

“No.”

They frog-marched him up to Gryffindor tower. One of them let go of Harry to run up the stairs, leaving Harry alone with the other twin. 

“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” he tried.

“Just wait till George gets back,” he was told. 

Soon enough George returned, and the twins ushered him into a small classroom down the corridor. Fred shut the door behind them, and Harry was faced with two identical, mischievous grins. 

Harry looked at them warily and put his hand into his wand pocket. “Is this payback over Ron?”

The twins laughed, not at all reassuringly. “No, Harry,” Fred said. “Besides, that'd be pretty hypocritical: he blames me for his fear of spiders.”

“We like you,” George said.

“More importantly, Ginny likes you -” said Fred.

“And we don't want to piss her off,” George said. 

“So, we thought we'd do you a favour -”

“- pass the torch along -”

“- from two trouble makers to another.”

“That prank on Ron was inspired -”

“- sneaking into the dorm like that -”

“- that took guts, that did -”

“- and we thought to ourselves -”

“- after what you said at breakfast -”

“- that boy deserves to go to Hogsmeade.”

“Alright...” Harry remained suspicious.

Fred looked at him very seriously. “This is the secret of our success.”

George pulled a piece of old parchment out of his pocket and spread it lovingly on a desk top. 

“A scrap piece of parchment?” Harry asked.

Fred gasped and clutched his chest. “Scrap parchment? Not at all.”

“This, Harry, is the answer to your prayers.”

“We found this in our first year, when we were young and innocent -”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“- well, more innocent than we are now,” Fred grinned.

“Filch had dragged us into his office -”

“- for no good reason -”

“- just a Dungbomb in the corridor-”

“- sort of thing could've happened to anyone, really.”

“So he started ranting about hanging us from the ceiling -”

“- thumbscrews -”

“- the usual -”

“- and we noticed he had a drawer marked _Confiscated and Highly Dangerous_.”

“So you confiscated this back?” Harry laughed.

“Ah, see, you just proved we're right to hand this on to you,” George said approvingly.

“So what is it?” Harry asked.

Fred grinned as he pulled out his wand. He tapped the parchment with it and said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

It was obviously a password of sorts, for the parchment came to life. Ink lines spread out from where Fred's wand had touched the parchment. At the top of the page, in curly green writing, was a title:

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_  
_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_  
_are proud to present_  
_THE MARAUDER'S MAP_  


Harry gazed at it in awe. It was a finely detailed map of Hogwarts, including both the castle and grounds. But its outstanding feature was the little ink dots moving over the parchment, each with a name written in tiny writing underneath it. Harry found the room he was in: there were three dots, representing himself and the twins, clustered together. 

Fred pointed at some corridors Harry hadn't come across. “These all lead right into Hogsmeade. I recommend this one. It opens right up in the cellar of Honeydukes. You'll get there with no trouble.”

Harry shook his head regretfully. “I can't.”

“Ah,” Fred said, flummoxed. “Well, you can use it for the next Hogsmeade weekend, I guess.”

“No, I mean... Fuck, I really wish you hadn't shown me this,” Harry said, running a hand through his hair.

“Why not?” the twins asked.

“Because I promised Snape I'd show him anything weird like this,” Harry said miserably. 

Fred looked at him with distaste. “Didn't figure you for a tattle-tale.”

“I promised him I'd show him anything suspicious after Riddle's diary. You know, the one that possessed both me and _your sister_?” Harry asked sharply. 

Both twins looked abashed at that. “I think Ginny made that same promise to Dad,” George said.

Harry nodded, appeased. “Not to mention, I think he'd want to know about the secret tunnels, in case Black's using them to get into the castle.”

The twins looked at each other. “We hadn't thought of that.”

“I swear I won't tell him where I got this,” Harry said quickly.

“See that you don't,” George said darkly.

“I won't,” Harry repeated as he scrutinised the Map. “Anyway, I can make it up to you.”

The twins gaped at him. “What do you mean?” they asked together.

Harry pointed at a corridor in the dungeons. “There's a secret staircase here. It goes from the dungeons straight to the top of the Astronomy Tower, although I guess that wouldn't help you guys that much. But here, there's this room, I dunno what it's called, that can be anything you want it to be.”

The twins looked at each other. “Show us.”

Ten minutes later they stood in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. 

“You just walk back and forth three times, thinking about what you need. The room does the rest,” Harry explained. “Well, apart from food. We haven't been able to get it to do that.”

Fred immediately began pacing up and down. His eyebrows shot up when a door appeared in the opposite wall, and he yanked it open eagerly. 

“We've been in here before, George, hiding from Filch. But it was just a broom closet then.”

George followed him inside. “Hey, cool, a Fanged Frisbee!”

“It looks like people have been dumping stuff in here for centuries,” Harry said as he followed them inside. 

He was in a cavernous room filled with all manner of mismatched objects: furniture, old suits of armour, books – Harry even thought he saw one of the giant stone chessmen that had been used to protect the Philosopher's Stone. The twins were already busily investigating.

“What did you ask for?” Harry inquired.

Fred didn't even look up from the chest he was digging through. “Somewhere to hide things that could otherwise get us into trouble.”

Harry filed this away for future reference. “I'll leave you to it, then, I don't want to keep Ginny waiting.”

He wiped the Marauder's Map clean as shown by George, and pocketed it before heading to the dungeons, lost in thought. The Map would certainly come in handy during late night explorations with Draco, but he still felt guilty over telling Severus about the secret passages. Hopefully the twins would think being shown how that room worked made them even. 

He found his Nimbus 2000 underneath his bed. It was a bit dusty, but otherwise just as he remembered. It didn't fly _quite_ as well as his lost Nimbus 2001 – it was a little slower, and didn't turn as responsively – but he felt confident he'd be just fine for the match against Ravenclaw. He spent a couple of hours chasing the Snitch with Ginny, then headed inside for a shower before going to see Severus. 

His lesson went well, with Harry managing to produce a fully corporeal Patronus on his second attempt. Severus had him maintain the spell for longer and longer periods of time, and Harry was able to study his Patronus in some detail. It was a male fawn, with small budding antlers.

“I suppose it's not surprising that your Patronus has taken that shape,” Severus commented.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, watching the fawn gambol about the office. 

“Lily's was a doe like mine,” Severus said quietly.

Harry took his eyes of his Patronus to turn to Severus. “Really? Do you, er, do you know what my dad's was?”

Severus' mouth tightened. “A stag.”

“Are deer really common for Patronuses?” Harry asked. 

“Not especially. It seems that your family has a natural affiliation to them, that's all.”

Harry considered this. “So why is yours a doe, then?”

“I, ah, I imagine it's due to my affection for Lily. I knew hers was a doe before I learnt the spell,” Severus said awkwardly.

“Hmm,” Harry frowned. “Well, then I think mine's a fawn because of yours. I didn't know what my parents' Patronuses were before I cast mine, did I?”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “What, do you imagine that you saw my Patronus and managed to make yours take the juvenile form of the species?”

“Well when you say it like that you make it sound stupid,” Harry grumbled. 

“Not stupid, perhaps,” Severus said slowly. He looked away and cleared his throat. “I think that will be all for today. You've progressed extremely well with this spell. Next lesson I shall introduce the Boggart.”

“Okay. Er, I wanted to show you something.”

Severus watched curiously as Harry pulled the Marauder's Map out of his pocket and spread it out on the desk. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” Harry said and tapped the Map. 

Severus' eyebrows rose as he watched the Map come to life. He bent over it for a closer look. “This is astounding.”

Harry let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. I, er, well I know you wanted me to bring you anything odd. I don't think it's dangerous, but then I didn't think there was anything wrong with the diary, so...”

Severus shook his head. “There's nothing wrong with being cautious, Harry.” 

“Right. Because the thing is, there are some secret passageways on here that go into Hogsmeade.”

He pointed them out to Severus, who followed his finger intently. 

“I shall inform the Headmaster of these. The staff are aware of some of these, but it is possible that Black has utilised one of the others to enter the castle,” Severus said. “Does this truly show everyone in Hogwarts?”

“Yeah. Look, that's us: Harry Potter and Severus Snape,” Harry pointed to them, then gasped. 

His finger had been resting on the outline of Severus' office, but as soon as he'd spoken the Map had begun to disappear line by line. There was a brief moment where it became a blank piece of parchment again, and then more green writing appeared.

“ _Mr Moony sends his regards to Snape, and humbly requests that he retreat back to the dungeons from which he came_.”

“ _Mr Wormtail disagrees with Mr Moony, and asks that Snape go find a rock to crawl under_.”

“ _Mr Padfoot asks that Snivellus take his greasy hands of this Map before he ruins it, the slimy git_.”

“ _Mr Prongs would like it noted that he didn't think Snivellus would have the brains to operate this Map before he wishes him good day_.”

Harry stared at the writing in horror before slowly raising his eyes to Severus' face. He was staring hard at the writing as a muscle twitched in his jaw. “I'm sorry, I didn't know it would do that, I swear!”

“Where did you get this?” Severus whispered.

Harry swallowed miserably. “Some friends. They, er, found it a while ago. They never mentioned that it insults people, though.”

Severus laughed bitterly. “No, I imagine it is charmed to only insult me.”

“What makes you say that?”

Severus ignored him and stalked over to his fireplace. He threw a handful of glittering green powder onto the fire and shouted, “Lupin! I need to see you!”

A few seconds later a spinning form appeared in the green flames, and then Lupin stepped out, brushing soot from his shoulders.

“Yes, Severus? Hello, Harry.”

“Hello, Professor,” Harry said quietly.

Severus snatched up the Map and thrust it under Lupin's nose. “This is yours, is it not?”

Lupin read it quickly before looking up. “Severus, I -”

“Don't try to deny it; no one's called me that name for years,” Severus snarled. 

“I wasn't going to. I was going to apologise,” Lupin said.

Severus clearly hadn't been expecting that. “You what?”

“Er, sorry, but what's going on?” Harry interrupted.

Both men opened their mouths, but Lupin spoke first.

“My friends and I made this Map while we were at school. We'd spent a lot of time exploring the castle, you see, and wanted to make a record of our discoveries. We added a charm to it that would show anyone currently on the grounds, whether they were living or a ghost, and it cannot be tricked by disguises such as Polyjuice or Animagi or Invisibility Cloaks.”

“And the insults?” Harry pressed.

“Yes, Lupin, do tell,” Severus sneered.

Lupin sighed. “We didn't get along with Professor Snape -”

“I'll say,” Severus snarled.

“We didn't like each other at all,” Lupin amended, “so we added another charm, one that would insult Professor Snape if he ever got hold of the Map. We were young and stupid, as you can see by the immature insults. I'm sorry you had to see this,” he said, looking between the pair of them. 

Severus' nostrils were flaring, but he looked calmer than he had before. Harry rushed to speak before he could say anything. 

“When you say your friends, do you mean that one of them was my dad?”

“Yes. He was Prongs,” Lupin said with a faint smile.

“Why was he called Prongs?” Harry asked.

Lupin looked flustered. “They were just silly nicknames, Harry, they didn't mean anything.”

Severus snorted. “And, of course, you mustn't forget Black. Tell me, has it occurred to you that he may have been using one of the secret passageways on here when he entered the school on Halloween?”

Lupin paled. “No, it hadn't. Although I think the only one the Headmaster is unaware of is the one that ends up in Honeydukes, and he can hardly waltz in there.”

Severus sneered, but said nothing.

“So, can I keep it? It's not dangerous, right?” Harry asked hopefully.

Lupin began to shake his head, but Severus snatched the Map back off him and handed it to Harry. “Keep it well hidden,” he cautioned.

“Of course. Thanks, Severus,” Harry beamed. 

“Are you sure that's wise?” Lupin asked.

Severus shot him a withering look. “He's got a deranged killer after him who has already once gained access to the castle, through unknown means. If this Map does all you claim it does, it could be very useful to Harry. Besides which, Harry has few enough mementoes of his father. Would you begrudge him this one?”

Lupin stared at him before giving a short nod. “You're right. If you'll excuse me, I've some last minute marking to get back to,” he said, then walked out of the room. 

Severus floated his desk back to its usual position and took a seat. “Am I correct in assuming you'll be joining me on Boxing Day?”

“If that's okay with you.”

“Very well then. Use that Map well,” Severus said with a glint in his eye.

“I will,” Harry promised.

********

  
Harry was looking over the Map on his bed when he saw something that made him sit bolt upright. There, walking up to the front entrance, was Fudge, with McGonagall, Flitwick and Hagrid. Harry frowned as he watched them. The only reason he could think of for Fudge to come up to the school was if they'd found Black, but then he would be accompanied by Aurors, wouldn't he?

Harry was still watching Fudge head up to Dumbledore's office when his shoulder was jostled roughly. 

“We're back,” Draco said. He removed his cloak and shook the snow off it before sitting at the foot of Harry's bed.

“What's Fudge doing here?” Harry asked.

Draco looked at him in confusion. “What?”

“He's seeing Dumbledore, and I thought maybe they'd caught Black or something.”

“Not as far as I'm aware. There were still wanted posters up in Hogsmeade. It's probably because of the Dementors at the Quidditch match.”

“But that was weeks ago.”

Draco shrugged. “The Ministry can operate very slowly when it wants to. Usually when they've made a mistake, and that was a pretty big fuck up.” He paused and narrowed his eyes at Harry. “How did you know Fudge was here?”

Harry gestured to the Map with a flourish, grinning. “My new secret weapon.”

Draco turned the Map around to stare at it. He looked up at Harry with a wide grin on his face. “This is going to come in _very_ handy.”

“I know.”

“Where'd you find it?”

Harry quickly told him about the Weasley twins, and the scene in Severus' office with Lupin.

“Wait, they made this when they were still at school? That's impressive,” Draco mused.

“Uh huh. Lupin wasn't very happy that Snape let me keep it.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno. Maybe he thinks I'll get up to no good with it,” guessed Harry.

“Of course we're going to get up to no good with it,” Draco smirked. “Just think how much easier it will be to avoid the teachers when we're out after curfew.”

“That thought had occurred to me. Anyway, it's nice having something that belonged to my dad. I don't exactly have much.”

Draco nodded sympathetically. “But what you do have is pretty amazing. I mean, this Map and the Cloak... It's almost as if your dad wants you to have free reign of Hogwarts.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, I think he would. And I don't want to disappoint him.”

“Excellent.”

********

  
The Christmas break began the next day, and the school was deserted. It seemed that with Black on the loose, most parents had felt the need to have their children at home with them. Miles was the only other Slytherin to stay at Hogwarts, as his parents insisted he needed to take the time to get his grades up. He wasn't very happy about it, and Harry and Draco agreed it would be best to avoid him as much as possible.

Luckily for them, Hermione had Gryffindor tower entirely to herself, so they spent most of their time in there, as it was far too cold to spend much time outside. Harry was especially amused by the portrait that had replaced the Fat Lady while she was being repaired. Sir Cadogan was completely mental and far too fond of challenging people to duels, but as long as he didn't guard the Slytherin entrance, Harry didn't mind him. Most importantly, he didn't care which house Harry was in, as long as he had the correct password.

The ease with which they were now able to enter the Gryffindor common room reminded Draco of their ongoing quest to get into one of the other houses. He settled on Ravenclaw – still put out by the vinegar defence employed by Hufflepuff – and walked up one morning with Harry, under the Cloak. Draco correctly answered the riddle (whoever makes me can hear me, but nobody else can. What am I? A thought) and they walked through to find themselves in a handsome tower room. It was decorated in blue hangings and had bookcases against every wall, and they'd greatly enjoying exploring it for over an hour. Draco had walked out, beaming, with an out of print book on Vlad Dracula that he'd tried and failed to find whilst in Romania, and a book on Quidditch strategies for Harry. 

Draco just shrugged. “What they don't know won't hurt them. God knows they've hoarded enough books up here that they'll never notice these two.”

“Yeah, that'll make the Ravenclaws feel better,” Harry drawled.

“If they didn't want us taking them, then they should have better security,” Draco pointed out. “Like Hufflepuff do. We haven't stolen anything from them.”

********

  
Harry was woken up early on Christmas morning by something heavy landing on top of his chest. He gave a strangled yell and fumbled to put his glasses on, to find Crookshanks sitting on his rib cage, staring at him.

“Sorry about that, he just darted past me,” Hermione said, and pulled Crookshanks off him.

“That's okay,” Harry wheezed. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair as he grinned up at Hermione. “I think Draco needs a similar wake up, though.”

“Oh no, he doesn't,” Draco said sleepily. His bed curtains opened and he pushed himself tiredly to his feet. He rubbed his eyes and then stared at Hermione. “How'd you get in here?”

She smiled smugly. “I overheard your password the other day.”

“Told you you'd make a good Slytherin,” Harry said in amusement. 

“Yes, well... Happy Christmas!” Hermione said, and walked over to give them their presents. 

“Now _this_ is a wake up I could get used to,” Draco said happily. “Here – Happy Christmas to you too.”

For a while the sound of rustling and ripping paper filled the room as they opened their presents. Hermione declared herself pleased with the book on the history of wizarding Paris that Harry had given her and settled down on his bed to flip through it. The talking bookends from Draco were sitting next to her, offering their opinions on what she was reading. 

“Thanks, Hermione!” Harry said, nudging her with his foot. 

She'd given him _Vs._ , the new Pearl Jam tape, along with some Muggle music magazines featuring interviews with the band. 

“Thank god, you have no idea how hard it was to explain to my parents what I wanted them to buy for me,” she said in relief. “They only ever listen to Radio 4.”

“Tell them thanks from me, then,” he said. 

He moved on to his next present, which turned out to be a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ from Draco. Hagrid had sent him another tin of home-made fudge, and Harry immediately got up to sit it in front of the fire to soften. As he returned to his bed he noticed one last package lying on the floor next to his bed. He picked it up and sat down, staring at it. It was wrapped in plain paper, and had no card on it. He tore open the paper and froze.

“It's a Firebolt,” he whispered reverentially, staring wide-eyed at the broomstick. He ran a shaking hand down the handle and felt the thrum of the broom's power. He looked over at Draco to find him still engrossed in his own presents. “Hey, Draco! I've got a Firebolt!”

“Really funny, Harry,” Draco snorted. “That's – holy fuck that's a Firebolt!”

He scrambled off his bed to get a closer look. Hermione was watching in bemusement. When both boys simply gawked at the Firebolt, she cleared her throat. “That's quite a good broom, isn't it?”

Both boys stared at her. “It's the best broom on the market!” Draco said indignantly.

She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Hmm.”

Harry picked up the Firebolt and felt it vibrating with pent up energy. He let go, and it hovered in the air, waiting for him to mount it. 

“Who'd give you a Firebolt?” Hermione asked.

“I have no idea,” Harry confessed. 

“Maybe it was Snape,” Draco suggested.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, right.”

“What? He likes you, and obviously he'd want us to win the cup this year,” Draco continued.

“He told me over summer that I didn't need one,” Harry told him.

“Yes, because obviously he was planning on buying you one and didn't want you to get one first!”

“I doubt it,” Harry said sceptically.

“Whatever. We're back in the running for the cup now,” Draco said happily. He ran his hand along the handle. “A real Firebolt! Wow...” He smiled in satisfaction before returning to his own bed.

“There was no note?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Nothing, it's really weird,” Harry responded. 

“You're not planning on flying it, are you?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked at her, hating himself for what he was about to say. “Not yet. I'm going to ask Snape to check it out first.”

“Good,” Hermione said in relief. “Because... Well, it's pretty suspicious, isn't it? And someone's already tried to kill you through Quidditch...”

“What are you thinking?” Harry asked.

Hermione bit her lip. “What if it was Black?”

“Great,” Harry huffed. “I thought I was being paranoid, but if you're thinking the same thing... I'll ask him at lunch if he can have a look at it. Just don't say anything to Draco, please. He'll just laugh at us.”

Hermione nodded and gave a worried look at the Firebolt. 

Draco interrupted the silence by taking a large bite out of an apple sent to him from his mother. “Our house-elves grow the best apples,” he said happily as he held out two packages. “Here, Mother's sent me these to give to you.”

Hermione opened hers to find a blue cashmere hat, with matching scarf and gloves. “They're so soft,” she said as she ran the scarf through her fingers. 

Harry gave her a smile as he opened the card attached to his package.

_Dear Harry,_  
_Draco has told me that you don't know much about your family. I had a look in our genealogy books and thought this might interest you. She was the Squib second-cousin thrice removed of your great-grandfather, and I understand she's quite well known in the Muggle world as well as our own. I know you're a little old for this sort of thing, but I thought you might like to know something of your most famous ancestor._  
_Happy Christmas,_  
_Narcissa_

Harry unwrapped the present curiously and stared at the book in surprise. It was a first edition of _The Collected Works of Beatrix Potter_. 

“Hermione, did you know about this?” he asked, handing over the card.

She read it quickly. “No. Oh, Harry, that's wonderful.”

Harry flipped to the book's content page, expecting to see the tales of Peter Rabbit. Hermione peered over his shoulder. “These are all magical stories,” she said.

“Of course they are. What were you expecting?” Draco asked.

“Peter Rabbit, Jemima Puddle-Duck, Mrs Tittlemouse...”

Draco stared at Hermione and let out a giggle. “Tittlemouse? Seriously?” he laughed again. “No, these are all normal children's stories. You know, greedy goblins and mischievous fairies, that sort of thing. Mother used to read them to me when I was little. My favourite was always the one about the lonely Jarvey.”

“Can I borrow this after you?” Hermione asked.

“Sure. Want to play poker before lunch?” Harry asked.

Draco stared at him. “Don't you want to go flying on your Firebolt?”

“After lunch,” Harry said, ignoring the voice in his head that was vehemently agreeing with Draco's suggestion.

“But... But it's a Firebolt!” Draco said, as if that settled things.

“Yeah, but...” Harry glanced at Hermione. “Hermione won't want to come flying, and anyway, if I go up now, I doubt I'd want to come down in time for lunch.”

“Alright,” Draco said slowly. He cast one last wistful glance at the broomstick then went back to rooting around in his pile of discarded wrappings for overlooked presents.

They amused themselves in the dorm for a few hours before heading up to the Great Hall. Harry used the Map to check that Miles was safely out of the way in his own dorm; it wouldn't do for him to catch Hermione in the Slytherin common room, let alone their dorm. 

They found the house tables had all been removed, leaving only a single table in the hall. Dumbledore, the Heads of Houses and Filch were the only staff present, along with two nervous first years. 

“Merry Christmas!” Dumbledore called as they approached. “With so few of us here this year, I thought we'd all sit together. Sit down!”

Harry sat down between Severus and Hermione, with Draco at the end. He looked displeased when Miles sat down next to him soon after; his mood hadn't been improved by Christmas.

Dumbledore seemed oblivious to the slightly awkward atmosphere. “Crackers!” he announced happily, offering the end of one to Severus. It flew apart with a loud bang, revealing a pointed witch's hat decorated with a stuffed vulture. Hermione cleared her throat and took a hasty sip of pumpkin juice as Severus scowled and pushed the hat across the table to Dumbledore. He swapped it for his own hat and smiled around the table as the food appeared. 

Just as everyone had started to help themselves to the food, the doors to the hall opened and Trelawney wandered in. She seemed to have dressed for the occasion in a sparkly green dress. Harry sighed, but both Hermione and Draco looked at her curiously; neither had ever seen her before. 

“Sybill, what a lovely surprise,” Dumbledore said jovially.

“I was crystal-gazing, Headmaster, when I saw myself leaving my tower and joining you all for lunch. I came immediately, as I would not want to tempt the fates on such a day,” Trelawney announced. 

“She wanted a good meal, she means,” Severus murmured, making both Harry and McGonagall snicker quietly. 

“Well, do make yourself comfortable,” Dumbledore said. He conjured up a chair and placed it between Severus and McGonagall.

Trelawney gasped dramatically. “I couldn't, Headmaster! If I join you, we shall be a party of thirteen! Nothing could be less auspicious! Must I remind you that when thirteen sit down together, the first to arise shall be the first to die?”

“We'll take our chances, Sybill. Sit down before the turkey gets cold,” McGonagall said impatiently.

Trelawney hesitated before sitting down gingerly, as if expecting some disaster to strike the table. She peered around through her thick glasses and blinked owlishly at Dumbledore. “Is Professor Lupin not joining us?”

“I'm afraid he's feeling rather under the weather today. Shame it happened on Christmas,” Dumbledore said.

Draco leaned behind Hermione. “Full moon,” he mouthed at Harry. 

Harry nodded and rolled his eyes before returning his attention back to McGonagall. 

“Surely you already knew Lupin wouldn't be joining us?” she asked Trelawney innocently.

Trelawney raised her nose. “Of course I knew, Minerva. Unlike some, I do not like to parade my gifts for the world to see. I would not wish to make others feel inferior when faced with my knowledge of the future. I have found that pretending I am not All-Knowing is often the easiest course of action.”

“I must say, you're rather talented at hiding your gifts,” McGonagall said. “Congratulations.”

Harry bit his lip and very carefully avoided making eye contact with Hermione or Draco.

Trelawney lost her usual mystical tone. “I should inform you, Minerva, that I have known for some time that poor Professor Lupin will leaving us soon. I offered to read for him, so that he could properly prepare himself, but he practically ran from me!”

“Can't imagine why,” McGonagall drawled.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “I'm sure that Professor Lupin is perfectly fine, apart from his current incapacitation. Severus, I trust that you have brewed him that potion again?”

“Of course, Headmaster.”

“Well, then, he'll be back with us in no time,” Dumbledore said cheerfully, and turned to one of the first years. “Derek, have you tried these potatoes? They're rather good this year.”

Conversation flowed more freely after that. Harry and Hermione both put on the hats they received from their Christmas crackers (a newsboy cap and sailor hat respectively), though Draco refused his (a red beret). After nearly two hours the feast began to wind down. Harry was feeling very full, and he scraped his chair back before pausing. 

“Professor Snape? Can I talk to you later?” he asked quietly.

Severus looked at him curiously. “You can't wait until tomorrow?”

“No, sir,” Harry said apologetically.

“Very well,” Severus replied, and surprised Harry by standing up with him immediately.

Trelawney shrieked. “Which of you was the first to rise?”

Severus looked down his nose at her. “Does it really matter?”

“The first to rise is the first to die,” Trelawney said in her most ethereal tone. 

“It's probably me, then,” Harry said, fed up. “I think last time you predicted my death you said I'd drown, but I should be okay if I stay away from the lake, right?”

McGonagall looked at him with a small smile. “I dare say you will be. All the same, perhaps you'd best be on the look out for mad axe-men lurking in the Entrance Hall, Severus.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” he drawled before they departed with Draco and Hermione in tow. “What's wrong?” he asked once they were out in the deserted Entrance Hall.

Harry took a deep breath. “Someone sent me a Firebolt this morning, and I think it might have been Black. Hermione agrees with me.”

“When did you decide this?” Draco demanded.

Severus ignored him. “There was no note? Nothing to identify the sender?”

“Nothing, not even anything from the shop.”

“And you have not yet flown it?”

Harry shook his head. “I was waiting to ask you to have a look at it first.”

Severus nodded approvingly. “Lead the way.”

It was an awkward walk down to the dungeons. Draco was annoyed with Harry and Hermione and muttered under his breath the entire way. Hermione reached out and squeezed Harry's hand, but they didn't speak. Draco was making Harry doubt himself, and he couldn't help feeling that Severus would end up declaring him an idiot, too. 

“Winter frost,” Draco muttered, not waiting for the entrance to fully open before stalking into the common room.

Harry moved to let Hermione in before him then stopped and looked at Severus warily. 

Severus sighed. “Go ahead. I know Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy spend more time in Gryffindor tower than you do down here, Miss Granger.”

Hermione darted inside before he could change his mind. Harry grinned as he followed her into the dorm. “Thanks, Severus.”

“Don't mention it. Really.”

Draco was sitting on his bed scowling when they walked in. Harry ignored him and handed the Firebolt to Severus.

He examined the Firebolt closely. “I shall ask Flitwick to have a look at it, as well as Hooch when she returns next term. Do you still have the wrapping?”

Harry looked around. “No, the elves must have tidied up in here.”

Severus sighed. “Pity. I shall ask them if they noticed anything suspicious about it, but they've probably Banished the paper already.”

“How would Black even get a Firebolt? It's not like he could just walk into a shop,” Draco said scornfully.

“He could have ordered it by owl,” Hermione suggested.

“With what money?” Draco demanded.

“Black comes from a well-off family, as you well know, Mr Malfoy. If he was able to somehow get into Gringotts undetected, the goblins may very well have given him access to his vault. They won't care about human criminals as long as they don't disrupt Gringotts,” Severus replied thoughtfully.

“So you think it was him?” Harry asked.

Severus shrugged. “Whether or not it was Black who sent it, it's certainly strange. I don't blame you for being uneasy about it. I'll make sure you get it back before your next Quidditch match.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Harry said.

Severus nodded. “I'll see you in my classroom at eleven o'clock tomorrow.”

Harry watched him leave with his Firebolt then looked tentatively at Draco. “Snape doesn't think we're being stupid.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered, and stalked out of the room. 

Harry sighed and looked at Hermione. “Want to go hang out in your room?”

“Sure,” she said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “He'll come around, don't worry.”

“I hope so,” Harry said miserably.


	11. In Which Draco is Upset, and Hermione and Pansy Conspire

Draco was still annoyed with Harry the next morning. After Draco completely ignored his “good morning”, Harry decided to join Hermione at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

“Feel like coming to the library after this?” she asked him.

“For a little bit. I'm meeting Snape at eleven,” he said, glancing up at the staff table. He was surprised to see Lupin up there, though he was still looking rather unwell. 

“What is it?” Hermione asked, following his gaze.

“Lupin's better,” he said slowly. Hermione looked at him quizzically. “He offered to talk to me about my dad sometime. I might go see him later today.”

Hermione busied herself refilling her tea cup. “Are you sure that's a good idea?” she asked finally.

“Why wouldn't it be?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Well... Are you sure that he's entirely... Trustworthy?” Hermione avoided his eyes. “I mean, you don't know him very well, do you? Are you sure you want to spend time with him like that?”

Harry cocked his head. Something about her word choice seemed familiar to him, reminded him of something Draco had said – “You know, don't you,” he accused.

“Know what?” she asked evasively.

“About Lupin. And, er, his furry little problem,” Harry said, dropping his voice.

Hermione stared at him. “ _You_ know?”

“Draco figured it out after Snape covered one of Lupin's classes,” Harry said, trying not to look at Draco over at the Slytherin table. 

“That's when I worked it out, too,” Hermione said breathlessly. “So you understand why I'd worry about you being alone with him.”

Harry groaned in exasperation. “Not you, too. What's the big fucking deal about werewolves? How exactly are they dangerous as a human? Explain that to me.”

“It's what all the books say –” Hermione began.

“Hermione, you're one of my best friends. But your habit of trusting anything that you read can be really annoying.”

Hermione bristled. “What, you think you know more about werewolves than the Hogwarts library?”

“Maybe not all werewolves,” Harry conceded, “but Lupin was friends with my parents. So yeah, I trust him.”

“Black was friends with your parents, too,” she said softly.

“And he was a Death Eater from a family of Death Eaters, who are definitely dangerous as humans. Bit of a difference, I think,” Harry retorted. 

“Harry –”

“ _And_ ,” Harry ploughed on, “Snape knows he's a werewolf, and he's never said anything about it to me. He warned me to be wary of Lupin because he used to be friends with Black, so I think he would've mentioned this, too, if there was anything to worry about.”

Hermione looked at him over her teacup. “Harry, you're one of my best friends. But your habit of trusting anything Snape tells you can be really annoying.”

Harry glowered at her. “McGonagall likes Lupin. Besides, Snape's never lied to me.”

“That you know of.”

“I'm not getting into an argument with you about this, okay? Let's just agree to disagree.”

“Alright,” she agreed reluctantly. “So, how are things with Draco?”

Harry winced. “Not good. He's ignoring me now, and probably you as well, I guess. Which is completely stupid, since it means he has no one to talk to except for Miles, who's pissed off that he has to stay here for the holidays and isn't much fun at the moment.”

“He'll get over it,” Hermione said confidently. “If not because he's bored without us over the holidays, then because he has a crush on you.”

Harry blushed as he glanced over at Draco, who was picking at his breakfast. “I wish I shared your optimism.”

“Harry. When am I ever wrong?” Hermione asked.

“It's happened.”

“Not often,” she said smugly.

He threw a bread roll at her.

********

  
Harry found the door to the Potions classroom open when he arrived at eleven. He walked in and saw no sign of Severus.

“Close the door,” Severus called, emerging from the storeroom with his arms full of ingredients jars.

“What are you making?” Harry asked as he watched him line the jars up neatly on a bench top. 

“Wolfsbane Potion,” Severus replied. “It's a fairly recent invention, used to aid werewolves in their monthly transformations.”

“So that's what you've been making for Lupin,” Harry blurted.

Severus looked at him sharply. “Yes. How long have you known?”

“What, that he's a werewolf? Since you took that Defence class.”

Severus looked pleased. “The Headmaster has, of course, forbidden the staff from informing the students.”

Harry nodded and moved closer to the bench. There were rather a lot of different insects, some dried, some floating in greenish fluid. “Ugh, no wonder he said it tastes gross.”

“Yes, well, the benefits of taking the potion far outweigh any fleeting disgust,” Severus said. “Instead of becoming a mindless, savage werewolf, Lupin will merely become an ordinary wolf, capable of retaining his human thoughts and emotions.”

“Cool. What do you want me to do?”

“Take the shells of twenty night scarabs and grind them until they are the consistency of coarse sand.”

Harry counted out the shells and put them into a mortar bowl. “So, has Flitwick said anything about the Firebolt?”

“Not as yet. He was rather excited by the challenge of identifying the possible jinxes that could have been placed upon it, so I imagine he will be thorough. I have, of course, stressed to him the need for you to regain possession of the broom as soon as possible,” Severus said as he began dicing bat wings. 

“Thanks. I mean, I've got my old broom, but I'd really like to get to fly a Firebolt. Without it, you know, killing me.”

“Hmm. How often is Trelawney predicting your death?”

Harry looked up, startled at the sudden topic change. “Every lesson. It's annoying more than anything else. When we were studying tea leaves Pansy swapped our cups one lesson, and Trelawney still made her usual gory prediction about me. Kinda hard to take them seriously after that.”

“What is her manner like when she makes these predictions?”

“Her manner?”

Severus put his knife down and looked at him seriously. “Yes, her manner. Her tone of voice, gestures –”

“Oh, right. The same as usual,” Harry said in confusion. “Why?”

“Because when a Seer has a true vision, they will speak in an altered, almost alarming manner. You will recognise the phenomenon if you ever witness it.”

“Have you ever seen one?” Harry asked curiously. He couldn't imagine Trelawney making an actual prediction.

“No, I've never seen one,” Severus said curtly, before sweeping the bat wings into a jar. “Those shells are done. Measure out a cup of nightshade petals and slice them into thin strips.”

Harry put the scarab shells aside and reached for the jar of nightshade. “Severus? Could you tell me a story about my mum? Please?”

“A story? Very well,” Severus said. He thought for a minute before smirking. “Lily used to complain about the lack of music here at Hogwarts. Her parents liked the Beatles, and the radio was always on at her home. She missed that throughout the school year.”

Harry nodded his agreement, feeling a renewed gratitude that Narcissa had charmed his Walkman to play in the magical atmosphere of Hogwarts.

“In any case, during fourth year she spent some time trying to introduce her friends to the Muggle music she liked.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“Singing, mostly. She had a beautiful voice,” Severus said wistfully. “But I'm sure you can imagine how well a song like Elton John's “Rocket Man” went over with students who had grown up in the wizarding world. She spent most of her time trying to explain space exploration to confused pure-bloods.”

Harry smiled as he thought back to how he and Hermione had tried to explain the concept of a gun to Draco, when talking about Pearl Jam's “Jeremy”. Then he remembered that Draco wasn't talking to him, and his smiled faded away. “So she gave up?”

“Of course not. Lily could be incredibly stubborn when she wanted to be; a trait you inherited from her. She decided she simply needed to try a different tactic. I suggested she needed to inspire people's curiosity before trying to introduce them to the music. A crude form of advertising, if you will.”

“And?”

Severus smiled. “I dared her to paint her face with David Bowie's signature lightning bolt for a week.”

Harry laughed in surprise. “And did she?”

“Oh, yes,” Severus smirked. “If there was one way to guarantee Lily would do something, it was to dare her. She hated backing down from a challenge.”

“Didn't she get into trouble?”

“No. I made sure there were no rules against it before I gave her the dare. There would have been no point issuing the dare if the first professor she saw made her wash her face. As it turned out, I need not have worried. Flitwick was delighted by it; she told me that he questioned her at length the first time he saw it. And our Potions professor, Slughorn, took a photograph of her when she asked. She didn't have much success getting people interested in the music, but she did start a minor craze for outlandish face painting.”

Harry smiled. “She sounds fun.”

“She was,” Severus said abruptly. “Now, I believe it is time for lunch. Wash your equipment, I shall return shortly.”

With that, he walked out of the classroom, shutting the door behind him. Harry shrugged and started washing up his knife. He'd just set everything aside to dry when Severus returned. He tapped his desk with his wand and a platter of sandwiches appeared, along with a pitcher of water. 

As they sat down, Severus handed Harry a photo. “Happy Christmas, Harry.”

Harry gazed at the photo in his hand. It looked like it had been taken in the Potions classroom, though it looked slightly different from the room he knew. Standing with their arms around each other's shoulders were his mum and Severus. Lily had a bright blue lightning bolt painted across one half of her face and was laughing with a wide grin on her face as Severus smiled at her in satisfied amusement. 

Harry swallowed thickly. “Thank you. But don't you want...”

“It's a copy. Besides which, Lily would want you to have it,” Severus replied.

“Right. Thanks,” Harry said in relief. He really hadn't wanted to give up the photo. 

They ate their lunch in companionable silence. Harry kept staring at the photo, occasionally laughing when Lily stuck her tongue out at Severus. Not even Severus' announcement that he would be bringing a Boggart to their next Patronus lesson could dampen his mood.

********

  
Harry spent most of the rest of the holidays with Hermione, either in the library or the Gryffindor common room. He wouldn't have minded, but she had an annoying habit of getting caught up in whatever book she was currently reading, and wasn't very good for conversation after that. Whenever this got too much for him he retreated to his dorm to listen to music or draw, and he began reading _Pride and Prejudice_. He'd found it boring at first, but he was determined to finish it, since his mother had loved it so much.

Draco was still ignoring him, and he was getting fed up with the awkwardness of sharing their empty dorm. The worst thing, in Harry's opinion, was that Draco was more annoyed with him than with Hermione. While Draco wasn't pleased with her, it was Harry who had committed the cardinal sin of actually giving up the Firebolt. Draco had only ignored Hermione for a few days before his anger towards her cooled, and he began speaking to her again, though he was very careful to never do so if Harry was with her. Hermione was initially pleased she'd been forgiven, but quickly felt guilty about it when she realised that Harry was still being ignored.

All in all, Harry was greatly relieved when the holidays ended and the rest of his friends returned to Hogwarts. 

“Have a good break?” he asked the others as they were unpacking.

“Pretty good, yeah. How about you two?” Blaise replied.

“Oh, it was great,” Draco said sarcastically. “Potter got a Firebolt for Christmas and promptly gave it to Snape. Apparently he doesn't want to win the Quidditch Cup this year.”

Four sets of eyes swivelled towards Harry.

“What did you do that for?” Theo asked.

“Because we don't know who sent it to me. Hermione and I thought it might have been from Sirius Black,” Harry said defensively.

“Why would he send you a broomstick?” Greg asked.

“He's supposed to be after me, and could have jinxed it to throw me off or something. Snape's given it to Flitwick and Hooch to check it out.”

Greg looked like he was thinking about this, which was scary. “That makes sense.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, shooting Draco a glare.

“Yeah,” Greg continued, “because Trelawney's been saying all year that you're gonna die, right?”

Harry's heart sank as Vince nodded along. The two of them weren't exactly the most convincing people to have on your side in an argument, especially not when it was because of Trelawney.

Theo rolled his eyes. “You guys are idiots,” he said to Greg and Vince. “You as well, Draco. You're actually annoyed that Harry's taking this seriously?”

Draco crossed his arms. “Yes. How would Black even manage to buy it, let alone curse it? Potter's just being paranoid again.”

“You're right, Malfoy,” Harry said, losing his temper. “I'm being completely fucking paranoid. It's not like anyone's tried to hurt me through Quidditch before, right? Except for my first match, when Voldemort almost jinxed me off my broom. Oh, and that match last year when I had my arm broken by Dobby. And the match this year when I nearly died when the Dementors made me fall off my broom. Yeah, you're right. I have absolutely no reason at all to think someone might try to use Quidditch to get to me.”

Harry stopped when he realised he'd started shouting. Everyone was staring at him, and Draco had gone bright pink. Harry didn't wait for him to say anything, just grabbed his Walkman and fled the room, muttering an apology to the others as he passed.

He fumbled with his headphones as he navigated the crowded common room, slipping them in when he reached the blessedly empty corridor. He pressed play and began to walk, with no real destination in mind. 

He came to an abrupt stop when he bumped into someone wearing socks but no shoes. He looked up to see Luna smiling vaguely at him, and pulled his headphones out.

“Sorry, Luna, I wasn't watching where I was going,” he said, attempting a smile.

“Hello, Harry. You look upset. Did you not have a good Christmas?”

“I've had a fight with Draco,” he said.

“Why?” she asked.

Harry found himself telling her the entire story. She nodded along as he spoke, but she seemed more interested in staring out the corridor windows, and he trailed off awkwardly.

“It's obvious, isn't it?”

“Er, what's obvious?” he asked, joining her at the window. He couldn't see anything moving out in the snowy grounds. 

“He's been affected by Nargles. They infest mistletoe and can make people more easily irritated. It's why there are so many arguments at Christmas time. If you keep him away from them, he should go back to normal. I could lend him my Butterbeer cork necklace if you like,” she said, holding it out from her neck.

Harry stared at it. “Er, thanks, but I don't think he'd wear that, even if he was talking to me. No offence.”

Luna nodded serenely and began tracing her finger through the condensation on the glass. “He'll forgive you, don't worry. You just have to be patient.”

“Patient, right. I'm not very good at that,” Harry admitted.

“It'll be fine,” Luna reassured him, turning away from the window. “I better go. I'm meeting the Grey Lady and she hates it when I'm late.”

She skipped off down the corridor. Harry watched her leave before returning to his dorm. He felt cheered, if in rather a confused way.

********

  
When Harry arrived at Herbology on the first day of classes, he found Pansy standing at his usual table with Padma and Morag.

“Draco made you switch with him?” Harry muttered as he joined them.

“Yes,” Pansy gave a long-suffering sigh. “Don't get me wrong, it's nice having him owe me a favour. But I usually use these lessons to annoy Milly. She's so much fun when she gets riled up.”

“You better not let her hear you calling her that,” Harry warned her.

“She can't hear me from here anyway,” Pansy said despondently. 

“Dragon-hide gloves on, everyone!” Sprout called as she bustled in. “Today you'll be learning how to harvest hellebore blossom.”

There was no more conversation after that, as they had to concentrate on getting the blossom without damaging the twitchy plants. By the time the bell rang the entire class was covered in poisonous pollen and had to go shower before lunch. 

The last class of the day was Care of Magical Creatures. It was freezing out in the grounds, but Hagrid had procured a group of salamanders, and set up a bonfire for them. The students spent a fun two hours gathering up wood to keep the fire going.

Harry added his latest sticks to the fire and then walked over to where Hermione and Pansy were picking up wood and talking quietly together.

“Go away, Harry,” Pansy said when she saw him coming. “This is secret girl business.”

“I'll talk to you after class,” Hermione said apologetically.

Harry just shrugged, picked up a large branch and dragged it back to the fire. After class he waited for Hermione to join him. 

“So what was that all about?” he asked her as they trudged back to the castle.

Hermione glanced around them. “Not here, let's go somewhere private.”

She refused to say anything more until they got to the corridor on the seventh floor. She paced up and down three times and then ushered Harry through the door that appeared. He found himself in a small, cosy sitting room. Two squashy armchairs were arranged in front of a roaring fire, with a low coffee table in between them.

Hermione hovered in the doorway. “We need tea for this. I'll be back in a minute, stay here, will you?”

“Sure,” Harry said in bemusement.

Hermione shut the door as Harry sat down. It was only when he looked around him for something to do while he waited that he realised the door had disappeared. He leapt up and raced over to the blank wall. 

“Granger, what the fuck?” he shouted.

There was no answer. Harry glared at the wall and flung himself back into his chair to wait. A few minutes later the door appeared again.

“Hermione, you better have a good –” Harry cut off when Draco stumbled into the room, evidently having been pushed. 

They stared at each other as the door slammed shut and disappeared again.

Draco whirled around. “Parkinson, what the fuck?”

“It's for your own good,” Pansy replied.

“We'll let you out once you're friends again,” Hermione added. “And don't bother trying to make the door reappear. We've tested it out, and it will only open from the outside.” 

“Even if you do manage to get it open, we've got no problem hexing whoever comes out,” Pansy said. 

“I'm going to kill you when I get out of here!” Draco called.

The girls just laughed. “You have to get out first,” Pansy said.

Draco glared at the wall before coming over to sit down stiffly. “We never should have shown Hermione how this room works,” he muttered after a tense silence.

“She would've found something else to do. Especially once she teamed up with Pansy,” Harry said.

“True,” Draco conceded. 

They grinned at each other before averting their eyes again.

“I'm sorry for giving the Firebolt to Snape,” Harry said suddenly, looking at his knees. “I really do want to fly it, and obviously I want to win the Quidditch Cup this year. I just don't want to die in the process.”

When Draco didn't reply he looked up to see Draco staring at him in bewilderment.

“Is that why you think I'm mad at you?” Draco asked.

Harry winced at his hurt tone. “Isn't it?”

“Of course not! Who the hell would pick a fight with their best friends over a _broomstick?_ ”

“Then what's the problem?” Harry asked.

Draco fidgeted. “I didn't like the way the two of you went behind my back like that. It made me feel like you didn't trust me.”

“Oh. I didn't think of that. It's not like you said anything to me. But of course I trust you,” Harry said.

“You're right. I'm sorry,” Draco said softly.

“So, if you're not mad over the Firebolt, how come you were more pissed off with me than Hermione? I thought it was because I was the one who actually gave up the Firebolt.”

Draco shook his head. “No. I guess I'm just used to you telling me everything. It hurt more that you kept something from me than that Hermione did.”

“I'm sorry. I just thought you would've laughed at us,” Harry confessed. 

“Well, then. Friends?” Draco asked tentatively.

Harry got up and pulled him into a fierce hug. “Of course, you git.”

“Shut it, you prat,” Draco said affectionately.

They stayed that way for a while before pulling apart. 

“I guess we should let them know we've made up,” Harry said.

Draco grinned at him maliciously. “Or we could let them stew outside. I'm fairly certain that while this room is charmed to give us whatever we want, the corridor outside isn't.”

Harry grinned back at him.

An hour later there was a frantic pounding as the door reappeared. 

“Harry? Draco? Are you alright in there?” came Hermione's worried voice.

“If you two have killed each other I'm going to be really pissed off,” Pansy added. 

Harry and Draco grinned over the chess game they'd been playing and got up.

“We're fine,” Harry said as he opened the door. 

The girls gaped at them before Hermione's forehead crinkled. “So you've made up then?”

“Yeah, ages ago,” Harry said.

“We've been waiting out here for hours!” Pansy exclaimed.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “It's been _one_ hour, and that's hardly our problem. You said you wouldn't let us out until we were friends again. You never said we had to inform you the second we made up.”

Both girls glared at them before Hermione grabbed Pansy's arm. “Come on, let's get something to eat from the kitchens.”

Pansy sent one last malevolent look over her shoulder as she allowed herself to be led off. “I think I preferred it when they weren't speaking. Can we make that happen again?”


	12. In Which Harry and Draco Make Themselves (and Everyone Else) Very Happy

Severus held Harry back after the last Potions class in January. “I have managed to locate a Boggart. I'll see you in the disused classroom near that snake painting you're so fond of, at one o'clock this Saturday.”

Harry nodded nervously. 

“You'll be fine,” Severus said in a firm, quiet voice. 

Saturday found Harry dithering in trepidation in the dorm before he was due to meet Severus. Draco was watching from his bed as Harry paced up and down.

“I know you're nervous, but Snape will be there, right? And I'll get some sweets from the kitchen for when you get back. Treacle tart?” Draco offered.

Harry smiled wanly. “The treacle tart here isn't as good as at your place.”

Draco paused. “I think I can summon one of our elves. Tilly!”

Harry jumped slightly as Tilly Apparated into the dorm.

Draco grinned. “I should have tried this much earlier. Hello, Tilly.”

Tilly looked between them. “Hello, Master Draco. Can Tilly be getting you anything?”

“Yes, can you make us some treacle tart? Harry says yours is much better than what the Hogwarts elves make,” Draco said.

Tilly beamed at Harry. “Thank you, sir!”

Harry smiled back. “It's true.”

Tilly turned back to Draco. “Tilly will be back as soon as she has made Master Draco's dessert.”

As the elf Disapparated with a crack, Draco turned to Harry. “There, you see? As soon as you get back we can have some treacle tart. And we can listen to the new music thing Hermione got you.”

Harry smiled. “Thanks. I'll see you later then.”

He trudged out into the common room, trying to cheer himself with the prospect of treacle tart and Pearl Jam with Draco. When he got to the classroom he stopped outside and squared his shoulders. He didn't want Severus to know how nervous he was about facing a Dementor, even if was really just a Boggart. 

He walked in to find all the furniture pushed against the walls and all the wall sconces lit. Severus was standing next to a large trunk which was shaking violently. Whatever was in there was growling and scratching at the inside of the trunk. Harry eyed it warily. 

“I shan't set it loose just yet. I'd like you to cast your Patronus without the Boggart first,” Severus said. 

Harry nodded and did so, watching his fawn canter about the room. The sight of it bolstered his courage slightly. 

Severus watched approvingly. “Very good. You just need to do exactly the same thing again. Focus on your memory, and ignore the effects of the Dementor.”

Harry tightened his now sweaty hand around his wand as Severus stepped back and opened the trunk's lid with his wand. Instantly a Dementor rose up to tower near the ceiling as it drew in a rattling breath. The wall sconces flickered out, leaving the room in darkness as a wave of cold swept over Harry. 

“ _Expecto patronum!_ ” 

His fawn burst from his wand but faded away after only a few seconds. The Dementor had paused at the appearance of the Patronus, but began approaching again. Harry's vision began to blur at the edges.

“ _Expecto patronum!_ ” he yelled again, trying to picture the last picnic he'd had with Draco and Hermione by the lake. 

This time, his wand only emitted a small puff of silvery mist before it dissipated, and he heard Lily screaming over Voldemort's cold voice. 

“ _Stand aside you foolish girl!_ ”

“ _Not Harry, please!_ ”

“ _I ordered you out of my way!_ ”

“Harry, wake up,” he heard someone say from far away.

He opened his eyes to find himself lying on the cold stone floor. Severus was crouched next to him, and helped him stand up. 

“Here,” Severus thrust a piece of chocolate at him. “I've mixed a Cheering Draught into it.”

“Thanks,” muttered Harry.

“I know you won't believe me, but that was a good first attempt against a Dementor,” Severus said.

Harry swallowed his chocolate. “Really? Because it seemed worse than last time. They – the voices were clearer. Mum was pleading with Voldemort as he ordered her to get out of the way.”

Severus twitched and reached for a chocolate himself. “He ordered her out of the way?”

“Yeah. Is that weird?” Harry looked at him in confusion. 

“Highly.” A curious expression flitted over Severus' face. “Are you ready to try again?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, turning to face the trunk.

He'd thought he was prepared, but this time the white fog enveloped his vision a lot faster. “ _Expecto patronum_ he said, but even as he spoke the words he knew it wouldn't work. 

This time, he could make out human-shaped shadows moving through the fog before a man started yelling. “ _Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off_ -” There were crashes and a sound of panicked footsteps, before a green light flashed through the darkness as Voldemort laughed. 

“Harry. Harry!”

Harry opened his eyes to see Severus' pale face looming over him as he shook Harry's shoulder. His vision was still blurry as he sat up, and when he reached up to rub his eyes he was unsurprised to feel tears on his face.

“Are you alright?” Severus asked, handing over more chocolate.

“I heard Dad that time. For the first time. He tried to take on Voldemort alone so Mum could get away with me,” Harry mumbled as he blinked to dry his eyes. 

There was a quiet rustling and then Harry felt Severus' arm go around his shoulders. “Your father was a brave man,” he said somewhat stiffly.

Harry shoved his chocolate in his mouth and stood up determinedly. “One more go,” he said at Severus' questioning look.

Severus clearly wasn't happy about it, but he obligingly stepped out of the way. “Perhaps a different memory is required,” he said. He waited until Harry nodded and then opened the trunk again. 

As the Dementor rose out of the trunk, Harry cast his mind back to when he and Draco had made up at the start of the month. He felt the chilling cold of the Dementor sweep over him, but this time he kept a small warmth in his stomach as he remembered hugging Draco.

“ _Expecto patronum!_ ” he bellowed.

His fawn burst out of his wand, clear and shining, and charged straight at the Dementor, which cowered away from the Patronus. The fawn kept advancing, and the Dementor eventually dove back into the trunk. The lid slammed shut behind it as the fawn returned to Harry's side and stood there protectively. 

Severus re-lit the wall sconces with his wand and turned to Harry. He was smiling wider than Harry had ever seen him; he was even showing his teeth. “That was excellent,” he said proudly. “Perfect, in fact. Twenty points to Slytherin.”

“Thank you,” Harry said a little giddily as his Patronus faded away. 

Severus handed him the largest piece of chocolate yet. “Eat all of that, or Poppy will come after the both of us. That will be enough for today.”

“But -”

“No buts,” Severus said firmly. “Any more and you'll exhaust yourself. As it is, I wouldn't be surprised if you were mostly running on adrenaline.”

“I guess you're right,” Harry said reluctantly.

“Of course I am. Go find one of your friends and keep your mind occupied, but nothing too taxing. And Harry?”

Harry turned in the doorway. “Yes?”

“You really should be proud of yourself.”

Harry grinned. “I am. Thanks.”

He was still smiling when he walked back into his dorm. He found Draco playing cards with Greg and Vince. He stood up as soon as he noticed Harry.

“You two can leave now,” he said imperiously.

Harry watched in amusement as Greg and Vince got laboriously to their feet and left with grunted greetings. 

“What? Simple instructions are the best way to communicate with those two,” Draco said defensively as he brushed down his trousers. “So, you look like your lesson went well.”

Harry sat down heavily on his bed, feeling tired all of a sudden. “It ended well, but it was pretty rough for a while.”

He began to tell Draco everything that had happened. Draco looked at him in concern a few times, but stayed silent as he busied himself setting out two plates of treacle tart. He set a jug of apple juice on the bedside table along with two goblets as Harry finished up. They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Draco served up the last of the tart when they'd both finished their first slices.

“But you're alright?” he asked.

Harry nodded with his mouth again full of tart.

“Good,” Draco said in relief. He frowned and took a sip of juice. “So, just to be clear. Are you saying that the Dark Lord actually gave your mother the option of leaving? He didn't kill her straight away?”

Harry swallowed and put his plate on the bedside table. “Yeah, that's what it sounded like. Snape said that was weird.”

“I'll say. I wonder why he did that... Still, it makes sense,” Draco said thoughtfully.

Harry stared at him. “What does?”

“Well,” Draco shifted uncomfortably. “Everyone always says you survived the Killing Curse because of your mother's protection, but they never mention your father. By the sounds of things, the Dark Lord killed him straight away but offered your mother the chance to live. That she -” Draco broke off and had some more juice. “That she chose to die to protect you, rather than give you up and live... No wonder Quirrell couldn't touch you. That's a very powerful protection.”

“Yeah, my parents loved me,” Harry smiled wistfully.

“Fuck, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you,” Draco said.

“It's okay,” Harry said.

Draco still looked guilty. “No, it's not. Wait here.”

Harry watched as Draco leapt off Harry's bed and rummaged around in his own trunk before sitting back down next to Harry and twisting to face him.

“Here. Chocolate makes everything better,” Draco announced, holding up a block of chocolate in a bright yellow wrapper.

“Ugh, do you know how much chocolate I've already had today?” Harry grumbled.

He looked up to find Draco smirking at him. “Are you sure you don't want any more? It's some of the Swiss chocolate Mother gave me for Christmas,” he said innocently.

Harry wasn't fooled. “You're trying to annoy me to distract me, aren't you.”

“Maybe.”

“Well thanks, but really, I'm fine.”

“But it's so good. Very chocolatey,” Draco said, breaking off a piece and waving it in Harry's face. 

Harry batted his hand away with a laugh. Draco raised his hand again, and Harry grabbed his wrist. Draco pushed back, and then somehow Harry was on his back with Draco lying on top of him. 

“You have chocolate on you,” Draco said breathlessly.

“What?” Harry was having a hard time concentrating.

Draco reached out and wiped Harry's cheek. He pulled his hand away, looked at it, and licked the chocolate off it. “Mmm. I told you it was good.”

“That's great. Are you getting off me?” Harry asked. He very much hoped the answer was a firm “no”.

Draco stared at him. This close up, Harry could make out all of Draco's pale eyelashes. “Draco?”

Draco didn't say anything. Instead, he bent his head and gave Harry a quick kiss. Harry froze in surprise, and it was over before he could even think about returning it.

“Sorry,” Draco muttered as he turned bright pink and tried to pull away.

“No, wait,” Harry whispered. He grabbed Draco around the waist and held him still. “I liked it.”

Draco's blush deepened. “But you didn't...”

“You caught me by surprise, you git,” Harry said, blushing himself now.

“Oh.”

Harry watched a shy smile hover on Draco's lips and couldn't help himself. He craned his neck and kissed Draco. There was a long moment when Draco didn't move, and Harry was just starting to think he'd messed up, when Draco made a little whimper and started kissing him back. 

Harry had imagined kissing Draco before and had thought he'd enjoy it if it ever happened. He just hadn't realised how much better the real thing was compared to his imagination. Draco was warm and he smelled really good. He should have been heavy, but Harry found his weight comforting. His lips were soft and he tasted like treacle tart and apple juice and something that was all Draco, and Harry didn't think he'd ever tasted anything so delicious. 

A loud wolf whistle cut through the air and Harry and Draco pulled apart to find Blaise and Theo standing in the doorway, both with wide smiles on their faces.

“I _knew_ it! I told you Harry liked him back, Theo. Pay up,” Blaise crowed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Theo said, handing over a handful of Galleons.

Harry was sure his face was bright red by this point. He snuck a glance at Draco and was pleased to see he looked just as discomfited. 

“Do you two have any concept of privacy?” snapped Draco.

Blaise just smirked. “Sure we do. But you know, this is our room too, and you didn't even have the curtains closed.”

Draco didn't have a reply to that. 

“I hope you both paid attention in Pomfrey's classes. Protection charms can be tricky,” Theo said. 

“I – we – no – argh!” Draco spluttered.

Evil, Harry thought. Theo and Blaise were evil, it was the only explanation. Proper friends would have left quietly and let him continue kissing Draco. Or never have entered in the first place. 

“Just wait until I tell Pansy,” Blaise said, proving Harry's theory about his inherent evilness.

“No!” Draco scrambled off the bed, but it was too late. Blaise had already slipped out of the door.

Theo was still grinning at them “Congratulations, though. Really.”

Well. Maybe he wasn't so evil after all, Harry revised. 

“Just learn some privacy charms, will you?” he continued, cackling as he followed Blaise outside. 

Draco turned around to look at Harry shyly. “Well, that went well.”

Harry stood up and walked over to him. “At least we don't have to come out to anyone now. Pansy will have told the whole school for us.”

“Our friends are evil,” Draco muttered.

Harry chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Draco fidgeted. “You didn't want anyone to know?”

“I hadn't thought about it, actually. I was a little distracted,” Harry said, taking another step closer. 

Draco bit his lip, but his eyes were dancing. “I could distract you again. If you like.”

“Oh, I like,” Harry breathed as he pulled Draco towards him.

********

  
When Harry sat down for dinner he found all the other third years staring at him and Draco.

“Looks like you had a busy afternoon, Parkinson,” Draco drawled.

Pansy grinned. “Oh, I did. Though not as busy as you two by the sounds of things.”

“Well, I think you're cute together,” Daphne said.

“Thanks,” Harry said, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“You're just pleased it's not your love life we're talking about for once,” Tracey said.

“Am not!”

“This coming from the girl who hid the fact she had a boyfriend for how many months?” Pansy asked archly, clearly still nettled.

Theo smirked at her. “Not our fault you never asked.”

Pansy shot him a dirty look and turned back to Harry and Draco. “So. I want details.”

“What? No!” Harry cried.

Draco grabbed his hand under the table and linked their fingers together. “Not on your life, Pansy. Try asking Blaise about his latest conquest.”

Pansy waved her hand. “Boring. Blaise being a slut is nothing new. You guys, on the other hand...”

“Hey!” Blaise protested.

Pansy arched an eyebrow. “Would you rather I called you a stud, or something else ridiculous?”

“You can call me a slut all you want. I _am_ a slut – and a damn good one, too, thank you very much. Just don't call me boring,” Blaise grumbled. 

Harry and Draco spent the rest of dinner deflecting Pansy's increasingly personal questions, eating quickly to make an early escape. They were heading out to the Entrance Hall with Pansy tagging along stubbornly behind them when they ran into Hermione.

“Hermione! The person I most wanted to see in the whole world!” Pansy cried.

She grabbed Hermione's wrist and grinned at her.

Hermione looked at her warily and pulled her arm free. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Pansy's grin widened. “Because I have some news you'll be very interested in.”

Hermione glanced at the boys who shrugged resignedly.

“You'll never guess what happened this afternoon!” Pansy said excitedly.

“You went completely insane?” Hermione guessed.

“Better. Harry and Draco professed their undying love for each other!”

“Er, that wasn't -” Harry began.

Pansy waved her hand at him. “Okay, fine. Blaise and Theo walked in on Harry and Draco snogging in the dorm!”

Hermione blinked at her before beaming. “Really? Oh thank god for that!”

“What?” Draco asked.

“You two have been impossible lately,” Hermione said.

Harry looked at Draco, who looked just as confused as he did.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You've both been coming to me, complaining that you don't know if the other one likes you, and should you do anything about your crush, and what that something should be, but what if it backfires... And neither of you listened to a single thing I said!”

“Sorry,” they muttered.

Hermione sighed and smiled at them fondly. “Well, it's all worked out now, isn't it? Although if you break up and both start coming to me to complain, I will have to kill you.”

“Got it. Break up and we need to avoid you, too,” Harry teased.

“That'd give you more time to tell me all the gory details,” Pansy smirked.

Draco grabbed Harry's hand again. “No, Pansy. No.”

********

  
A week before Slytherin was due to play Ravenclaw at Quidditch, Harry received a note at breakfast. He gave Hedwig some bacon as he read it.

_Harry,_   
_Your Firebolt has been deemed safe to fly. Come to my office directly after breakfast to pick it up._   
_Severus_

Harry re-read the note to make sure he hadn't imagined it then handed it to Draco, too excited to form a sentence. Draco read it and looked up, wide eyed with excitement. 

“You've got it back!” he said in a choked voice.

Harry nodded quickly. “Come with me?”

“As if I'd miss this!” Draco scoffed.

They abandoned the rest of their breakfast and hurried down to Severus' office. The Firebolt sat gleaming on his desk.

“I see you took your time,” Severus smirked.

Harry looked up from his broom. “I can really fly it?”

Severus picked it up and handed it over. “Yes, you can really fly it. If you're going out now find Miss Farley to supervise you.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you!” Harry babbled.

As soon as they got out into the corridor they took off at a run for the common room. They found Gemma sitting with Reed.

“Hi Gemma, are you free?” Harry panted.

“Does it look like she's free?” Reed snapped.

Gemma glared at him before smiling up at them. “What is it, Harry?”

“I just got my Firebolt back, and I wanted to go for a fly. Snape said to ask you to come with us,” Harry explained. 

“She has Head Girl duties to attend to at the moment,” Reed said.

“No, I don't,” Gemma said as she got up. “But I expect to get a go on it myself. I left my own broom at home over the holidays.”

“Sure, of course. I can get my old Nimbus for you if you want to come up with us?” Harry offered.

“I'll get it, I need to get my broom anyway,” Draco said.

As Draco headed off for the dorm Reed glowered up at Gemma. “I think the Headmaster would be very interested to know you're shirking your responsibilities for a broom.”

“And I think the Quidditch team would be very interested to know that you don't want our Seeker to become accustomed to his new broomstick when our next match is only a week away,” Gemma replied coolly. 

“But my Prefect report -”

“Put it in writing and I'll deal with it later,” Gemma said impatiently as Draco came racing back. She took Harry's Nimbus off him and spun around. “Come on, boys.”

“Sorry if I got you in trouble,” Harry said once they were out in the corridor.

Gemma laughed. “Don't worry about it. You've just saved me from a very tedious hour or two. Honestly, I think I'm mostly looking forward to graduating because it'll mean I'm finally free of that wanker.”

“What are you going to do?” Harry asked curiously.

“Work at the Ministry of Magic, hopefully. I've applied to become the British Youth Representative to the Wizengamot.”

Draco whistled. “Impressive.”

“Well, I have to wait and see if I'm successful first,” Gemma said modestly.

“I'm sure you will be,” Draco said.

“Er, what is that, exactly?” Harry asked.

“The Wizengamot is sort of like the Muggle High Court. They can codify or veto the laws Ministers write up, but they also sit on criminal trials,” Gemma explained. “And the Youth Representative is there to represent the interests of underage witches and wizards. It's largely a advisory position, but occasionally can be influential when held by the right person. I'd also be assigned to a Wizengamot member as a secretary or scribe, in order to gain a better idea of how the Wizengamot runs.”

“That's brilliant,” Harry said enthusiastically. “When will you find out?”

“Late April or early May, depending on how many applicants there are.”

“Good luck then,” Harry said.

“Thanks. Now, I think you'll be safe on your own while I get a Quaffle from the Quidditch shed.”

They spent the rest of the morning on the pitch, taking it in turns on the Firebolt. Harry couldn't believe how well it flew. It was far smoother than either of his old brooms, and responded to the slightest touch. When Gemma reluctantly called an end to their session, Draco was enthusing about their easy win in the Quidditch Cup.

“Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff don't stand a chance against us,” he declared happily.

“Yes, but we still need Gryffindor to lose badly to at least one of them,” Gemma cautioned.

“Hufflepuff might beat them. They're playing Diggory as Seeker this year, and he's quite good,” Draco replied.

“Yeah, but so's Ginny,” Harry said. 

“True. But we're the only team with someone flying a Firebolt,” Draco said. 

“Great, put all the pressure on me,” Harry grumbled. 

Draco slung his arm around him. “You'll be fine. Plus you can cast a Patronus now, so you don't need to worry about the Dementors showing up.”

“Can you really?” Gemma asked.

“Yeah, Snape's taught me.”

Gemma cast an appraising eye over him. “I think you're right, Draco. We've got the Cup in the bag.”

********

  
On Sunday morning Harry was sitting on his bed helping Draco refine his Parseltongue pronunciation when Blaise walked in looking grim.

“Hermione's at the entrance to the common room. She wants to see you,” he said.

“What's wrong?” Harry asked at once.

Blaise shrugged. “She wasn't very coherent.”

Harry shared a worried look with Draco and hurried out after Blaise. 

“Good luck,” he murmured as they came to the entrance. 

Harry was half expecting to see Hermione in tears. He hadn't expected to see her pacing angrily as she cradled her right hand against her chest as Ginny looked on. 

“Come on,” Hermione growled as soon as she saw them.

She stalked off down the corridor, leaving the boys with Ginny.

“What the fuck's going on?” Draco asked her as they followed Hermione.

Ginny sighed. “She's had another fight with Ron.”

“And he hurt her hand?” Harry demanded, already planning on letting Draco completely fill Ron's bed with spiders this time.

Ginny laughed at that. “No. Well, sort of. She punched him in the face.”

“She punched him?” Draco asked delightedly.

“Yep. Can't say he didn't deserve it, either,” Ginny said. “But I think I'll let her explain.”

“Hermione? Where are we going?” Draco called carefully.

“That room on the seventh floor,” she replied without turning around.

“Ah. I'll meet you there. I'll get some chocolate from the kitchens,” Draco said.

“Is chocolate your answer to everything?” Harry asked.

“Of course not,” Draco said breezily. “ _You're forgetting about revenge_ ,” he added.

“Get some tea as well!” Ginny called after him. 

When Harry and Ginny caught up to Hermione, they found she'd asked the room to provide a large array of crockery and glassware. They hung back by the door as Hermione hurled it piece by piece at the far wall.

“You. Arse. And. Your. Stupid. Bloody. Rat!” she panted between throws. 

Draco walked in a few minutes later carrying a bag and levitating a tea tray with his wand. “Things are going well in here, I see,” he commented, eyeing the shards of broken glass and china lining the wall.

Ginny shrugged. “I'd rather see her destroy some plates than my brother.”

They sat down and began sorting out the food the elves had given them. Hermione eventually reached the end of her supply of breakable things and came and joined them.

“Feeling better?” Harry asked.

“Much,” she said as she reached for a cup of tea.

“So what happened?” asked Draco.

“I had another fight with that bloody moron. No offence, Ginny.”

“I tell Ron he's an idiot all the time,” Ginny said unconcernedly.

“Right. Well, his rat's disappeared, and as usual, he's blaming Crookshanks.”

“Does he have any proof?” Draco asked.

Hermione made a face. “He dragged his bed sheet down into the common room to shove in my face. It's got some blood on it, and he had some orange cat hairs.”

“They could've been there since last time though,” Draco pointed out.

“Exactly!” Hermione fumed. “Anyway, he was screaming at me in the middle of the common room again, and I just couldn't take it anymore. So I punched him in the face.”

Draco smiled wistfully. “I wish I could've seen that.”

“It was a pretty good swing. He should have a nice black eye,” Ginny said. Hermione smiled proudly. 

“You're not angry that Hermione's beaten up your brother?” Harry couldn't help asking.

“Are you kidding? After all the times he picked on me just because I'm his little sister? I fully support anyone who gives him what he deserves,” Ginny said. 

“That's the spirit,” Draco said approvingly. 

“I just hope Crookshanks is okay. He ran out of the portrait hole when we started fighting,” Hermione fretted.

“He'll be fine. He's part Kneazle, and they can take care of themselves,” Draco assured her. “He's probably off somewhere enjoying the rat.”

Ginny winced. “Can you not? I'm on Hermione's side, but I don't want to think about Scabbers getting eaten.”

Draco looked slightly abashed.“Sorry.” He paused. “So, I found out what this room is called. The house-elves call it the Room of Requirement, or the Come and Go Room.”

“That's good to know,” Hermione said. 

“I thought so. They also told me not many people know about it, so apart from the occasional elf, we should have it all to ourselves,” Draco said smugly. 

“It'd be perfect for studying in,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

Harry rolled his eyes. “We have a room that can be anything we want it to be, and you want to study in it?”

“What's wrong with that?” Hermione asked. 

“Everything,” the other three said together.


	13. In Which Ron Has Another Nighttime Visitor, and Harry Watches his First Quidditch Final

The day of the match against Ravenclaw was warm and sunny, and the Slytherin team was in high spirits in the change rooms as they waited for Adrian to come give his pep talk. 

“Alright, team, listen up. We're trailing Ravenclaw by over two hundred points, so we need to score high today,” Adrian announced. “Harry, don't catch the Snitch if we're behind, alright?”

Harry nodded. At least today, unlike the last match, he'd be able to keep track of the scores by listening to the commentary. 

“Ravenclaw's Seeker has had a few injuries in her right shoulder, so she shouldn't give you any trouble, especially not with your Firebolt.”

The rest of the team cast envious looks at Harry's Firebolt.

“Who is she?” Harry wanted to know.

“Cho Chang. Year above you, I think,” Adrian said.

“Mmm, she's that one with the nice tits, yeah?” Miles asked.

“She's fit, yeah,” Millicent agreed. 

Adrian glared at them both. “You better not spend the match drooling over her.”

Millicent grinned. “Course not. Aim for the shoulder, right?”

Adrian nodded in approval and shouldered his broom. “Right. We've got a tough match, but let's do our best.”

They walked onto the sunny pitch to line up against the Ravenclaws. Harry had no trouble picking out Cho; she was the only girl on the Ravenclaw team. Harry sized her up as the captains shook hands. 

“Davies, Pucey, shake hands,” Hooch said. They did so, looking like they were trying to out stare the other. “Mount up. On my whistle. Three. Two. One!”

Harry soared into the air, revelling in the way his Firebolt accelerated. He flew above the other players as he began searching for the Snitch. 

Down in the staff box Jordan was once again commentating. “They're off, and I think I speak for everyone when I say the highlight of this match is the Firebolt that Slytherin's Harry Potter is flying. Ravenclaw's Cho Chang is on a Comet Two Sixty, which has no chance against a Firebolt. According to _Which Broomstick_ , the Firebolt -”

McGonagall cut in. “Jordan, you're supposed to be providing commentary on the match, not a free advertisement for Firebolts!”

“Sure thing, Professor. Just providing the crowd with some extra colour. The Firebolt is, of course -”

“Jordan!”

“Okay... It's Ravenclaw off to an early lead twenty to nothing, with Jeremy Stretton in possession heading for goal.”

Unable to catch the Snitch with Ravenclaw in the lead, Harry changed tactics to shadowing Cho. She was a good flier, but Harry had no trouble keeping pace with her. Whenever he thought she might have seen the Snitch he would cut in front of her, slowing her down and allowing the Snitch to make its escape. 

“Piss off, Potter!” she shouted in frustration.

“What'd I do?” he asked innocently. 

She swore and flew off, leaving Harry grinning behind her. A cheer from below made him look down. 

“And Slytherin have gained the lead for the first time this match, fifty to forty,” Jordan called. “Scarlett Lympsham scores her first goal of the match with a neat bit of flying – makes you wonder what she could do on a Firebolt...”

“Jordan, stop talking about Firebolts!” McGonagall shouted.

As the Slytherin Chasers started clawing back, Harry started to focus less on Cho and look properly for the Snitch. A few minutes later he spotted the Snitch hovering near the Ravenclaw goals and sped off towards it. He was nearly at the goals when Cho flew in from his right to block him. Harry swerved to avoid her, but he'd lost the Snitch. 

“How do you like it, Potter?” she called with a grin.

Millicent ignored the Ravenclaw Chaser flying past with the Quaffle and belted a Bludger at Cho in retaliation. It caught her in her injured shoulder and she swore as she grabbed it and stretched it out. 

“And Davies scores, giving Ravenclaw the lead again. Keeper Bletchley seems to have been distracted by an altercation between the two Seekers.”

“Miles, stop ogling Chang and do your fucking job!” Adrian yelled as he shot off after Draco, who had the Quaffle. 

Cho grinned and drifted closer to the Ravenclaw goals, and now Harry could see that Miles' eyes kept flicking towards her as she deliberately stretched her shoulder in front of him, pushing her chest out. Harry hovered nearby, keeping an eye out for the Snitch while debating the ethics of simply flying into Cho as the Ravenclaw Chasers scored a quick succession of goals. All three Slytherin Chasers scored another goal apiece, but the Ravenclaw Chasers had the added bonus of flying against a distracted Keeper. 

“A nice shot from Beater Inglebee makes Malfoy drop the Quaffle – it's caught by Davies, and all six Chasers are heading towards to the Ravenclaw goals. Nott and Inglebee both take aim and – yes, they've both hit! Bletchley and Stretton are both hit, and Ravenclaw's scored again! They're pulling away easily now, one hundred and seventy to eighty!”

Hooch blew her whistle twice. “Blurting, Malfoy! Cobbing, Lympsham! Two penalties to Ravenclaw!”

“And that's _two_ fouls by Slytherin. Davies is taking the penalties for Ravenclaw.”

Harry swore as he watched Davies score both times, though the second one was nearly saved by Miles. 

“Ravenclaw are leading one hundred and ninety to eighty, with Lympsham in possession,” Jordan said.

“Harry, just get the Snitch and end it before their lead gets any bigger!” Adrian called as he flew past. 

Harry immediately wheeled his broom away from the Ravenclaw goals with Cho pursuing him. Both teams had scored a goal each when he finally saw the Snitch back near the Ravenclaw goals. Harry flattened himself down against his broom and urged it on, acutely aware that Cho was right behind him. 

“And the Seekers have seen the Snitch! They're shooting down towards the Ravenclaw goals, as are the Ravenclaw Chasers, with Burrow in possession. Bulstrode hits a Bludger at him – he drops the Quaffle – but it's caught by Stretton. Potter's gaining on the Snitch – well, he's the one on the Firebolt, isn't he?” 

“ _Jordan!_ ”

Harry was flying below the Chasers now, focused solely on the Snitch fluttering between them and Miles. He took a hand off his broom and stretched it out towards the Snitch as he rose up between the Chasers, who had to split up in order to let Cho follow him through. 

“And he's got it! Potter's got the Snitch! Chang's Comet just couldn't compete with a Firebolt -”

McGonagall pulled the megaphone out of Jordan's hands. “Slytherin win two hundred and forty to two hundred. This match was not brought to you by the makers of the Firebolt broomstick.”

Harry laughed as he descended to the ground to join the rest of the team in a group hug, but it was less enthusiastic than usual. 

“Well, we knew it wouldn't be easy,” Adrian said bracingly.

“I thought _we_ were supposed to be the ones who played dirty. Did you _see_ what their Seeker was doing?” Scarlett asked, outraged. 

“It was a good strategy, though,” Adrian admitted. “Come on, let's get changed, we'll still be having a party in the common room.”

********

  
Adrian was right. Despite the disappointingly close win, the party was already pretty rowdy by the time the team made it back into the common room. Harry recognised the Weird Sisters blaring from the gramophone, and there was already a small knot of people dancing in the centre of the room.

Harry grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice and joined Pansy on one of the couches. “Why's everyone so excited? We're still trailing Ravenclaw in points.”

“It's because we lost the first match. We didn't get a party then, so we're making up for it now,” Pansy explained. 

Scarlett skipped over to them. “Come dance with me!” she chirped. 

“Don't you need a rest after the match?” Harry asked.

Scarlett shook her head violently. “Nope! Come on!”

“Later,” Harry promised. 

“You suck,” Scarlett said, before darting away to join the dancers.

“She's so bouncy,” Pansy commented.

Harry laughed. “She always makes me think of a puppy.”

Draco came over and sat down next to Harry. “Someone's spiked the punch,” he announced.

“Did you have some?” Harry asked.

“No, but Vince has. Rather a lot, by the look of things. He's not a neat drunk,” said Draco.

“Is he okay?” asked Harry.

Draco shrugged. “He face planted, but he's not exactly coordinated to begin with. He's sitting in the corner with Greg trying to sing along to the music. Don't go over there if you value your hearing.”

“Where do they get the alcohol from?” Harry wanted to know.

“Hogsmeade, of course,” said Pansy. “Some of the sixth and seventh years are of age, and there's a barkeep who doesn't mind selling to school kids. Especially now that business is down because of all the Dementors around.”

“At least they didn't come to the match today,” Harry said darkly. All three of them shuddered.

“You lot look cheerful,” Blaise said as he wandered over with Daphne.

“So do you,” Pansy said to Daphne. 

“I wish we could invite people from other houses to our parties,” Daphne pouted.

“Missing Seamus, are you?” Pansy teased.

“I would like to dance with him, yes,” Daphne said primly. 

“I'm happy to take his place,” Blaise leered.

Daphne shoved him in the side. “What, so you can brag about me to our friends? No thank you.”

Draco laughed. “You really have fucked up your chances of ever getting a Slytherin girl.”

Blaise shrugged. “Doesn't matter. I've decided I'm going after Chang next. She was pretty Slytherin in today's match. Should be interesting.”

“And I'm sure Pansy and Daphne will want to hear all about it,” Draco said. He stood up and hauled Harry to his feet. “Come dance with me.”

They'd just reached the dance floor when Scarlett popped out of the group of dancers and grabbed them by their free hands. “You made it!” she said happily, bopping in time to the music.

“I did said I'd dance with her,” Harry said, looking over her head at Draco apologetically.

Draco rolled his eyes but didn't say anything until a slow song came on. “This one's mine,” Draco said as he pulled Harry towards him. 

“Whatever,” Scarlett shrugged and walked off. 

She soon returned, pulling Blaise by the hand. 

Draco narrowed his eyes. “He better not try anything with her.”

Harry chuckled against Draco's shoulder. “I think she can take care of herself.”

“I know, that's what I'm worried about. I don't want my friend getting his bits hexed off.”

They fell silent after that, and Harry watched the other couples as they slowly turned around. He caught sight of Theo and Tracey dancing together and stifled a grin at the height difference between them. It made him feel a bit better about Draco's height advantage over him.

At two o'clock the party had started to wind down. Some of the older students had disappeared, but there was still a group of people dancing in the centre of the room, Scarlett among them. Harry was sitting in a circle with Draco, Pansy, Millicent and Greg, taking it in turns to draw on Vince, who had fallen asleep in the corner. Millicent was in the middle of drawing cat whiskers on him when the music shut off abruptly.

Severus was standing in the entrance way. “This party is now over,” he announced.

There was a loud grumbling at that; usually he let them continue as long as they wanted, provided they didn't venture out of the common room. 

“Sirius Black has again been sighted in the castle. You are not to venture out of the common room for the rest of the night. Miss Farley and Mr Hawthorne, go and check which students are already in the dormitories. I want to speak to you and the other Prefects once you've returned.”

Harry watched as Severus scanned the room. When he caught sight of Harry he gave a small nod before pulling out a long piece of parchment and proceeding to take a roll call of the entire house. Gemma and Reed had returned by the time he' finished, and he was soon talking quietly to the clustered Prefects.

“Come on,” Draco said, pulling Harry to his feet. Beside them, Millicent and Greg were hauling Vince upright. 

They entered the dorm to find Theo and Blaise getting changed into their pyjamas as they discussed the break in grimly. Greg led Vince over to his bed and dropped him heavily onto it. 

“Why aren't they taking us to the Great Hall again?” Harry wondered as he pulled his jumper over his head.

Theo shrugged. “Maybe they don't think it's necessary. It could depend on where he was seen.”

“Do you think he's gone for Gryffindor again?” Harry asked.

“No idea. I guess we'll find out tomorrow,” Theo said, getting into bed. 

Blaise yawned. “They better find him soon. What's the point of having the fucking Dementors here if he can just get past them anytime he likes?”

“Maybe he knows some Dark magic that we don't know about?” Harry suggested. “Snape said that side of your family was pretty fucked up, Draco.”

Draco bit his lip. “Most of it, yeah. He'd still need a wand, though...”

“Save it for tomorrow, guys. Some of us have a seduction to plan,” Blaise said.

Draco rolled his eyes as Blaise got into bed. “Come sleep with me, Harry.”

“I – what? Now? But – no,” Harry stammered.

Draco stared at him in confusion before blushing. “Not that, you prat. I meant _sleep_.”

“Oh. Alright,” Harry said bashfully.

They got into Draco's bed together. Harry had to admit that he felt better with Draco curled around him. 

“You going to keep me safe from Black?” he joked sleepily.

“Something like that,” Draco mumbled, tightening his hold. 

Despite the renewed menace of Black, Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face.

********

  
The next morning at breakfast the Gryffindor table was looking tired and grim.

“Guess he did go for them again,” Tracey commented as they looked across the Great Hall.

“Anything about last night in the _Prophet_?” Pansy called down to Reed.

“Just that there was another sighting. No details,” Reed said dismissively without looking up from his paper.

“I really should get a subscription to the _Prophet_ ,” Tracey said thoughtfully. Theo nodded. 

“We can ask Hermione in Care of Magical Creatures this afternoon,” Draco said.

“You'd think the staff would make some sort of announcement,” Theo grumbled.

“Well the Gryffindors obviously already know, why would Dumbledore care about the rest of us?” Pansy muttered bitterly. No one had an answer to that.

Draco and Daphne wanted to spend their free period playing cards in the common room, but Harry shook his head. “I'm going to go see Lupin,” he said as they walked out of the Great Hall. Draco gave him a searching look, but followed the girls down to the dungeons.

Harry walked through the corridors deep in thought. The staff were certainly taking last night's break in seriously. Filch was busy boarding up even the smallest gaps in the walls, and Flitwick had been teaching the doors in the Entrance Hall to recognise a picture of Black when Harry walked past him.

Lupin's office door was open when Harry got there. He knocked as he stepped over the threshold.

“Ah, Harry, hello,” Lupin looked up from his desk.

“Hello, Professor. I was hoping you were free?” Harry asked.

“I've a class next period, but I can see you now. Come in. Did you have a question about your vampire essay?” Lupin asked.

“No, sir. Although I think I should warn you that Draco's completely disagreed with what you told us about Dracula. There was a lot of angry muttering when he wrote his essay,” Harry said, grinning.

Lupin chuckled. “I'll look forward to reading it, then, if he can back up what he writes. How can I help you?”

“I, er, I wanted to take you up on your offer to talk about my dad,” Harry said hopefully.

“Ah, of course. Take a seat. Tea?”

At Harry's nod, Lupin set about fussing with the tea things. Harry had the feeling he was stalling. Finally, he set two steaming cups on his desk and sat down. “Ask away.”

“Right. So, er, you were friends with both my parents, right?”

“Yes, though I only became truly close to Lily once we were both made Prefects in our fifth year. She didn't like James much, initially, you see.”

“How come?”

“She thought him a bit arrogant for a long time, and she wasn't completely wrong,” Lupin said with a wry smile. “But he eventually got through to her. He chased her for a while, actually.”

Harry blew on his tea. “What made her change her mind?”

“James matured after our fifth year. And, of course, she had that falling out with Severus, which helped things along,” Lupin said. 

“Why did he and my dad hate each other so much?”

Lupin frowned. “It was... Complicated. Severus resented James' popularity and wealth, I think, and James was jealous over how close Severus was to Lily. Not to mention the house rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was even more pronounced back then than it is today. I can't give you any details, you understand, but I do know that Voldemort was actively recruiting from the older Slytherins at the time.”

Harry winced. “That must have been horrible.”

Lupin nodded. “Voldemort was gaining in power for most of my time at school. It was initially a vague threat, but as the years progressed it became clearer just how far he was willing to go to further his aims. There were a lot of Slytherins who joined the Death Eaters as soon as they left school.”

“Like Severus,” Harry thought out loud.

“Yes,” Lupin confirmed. 

Harry sipped his tea as he remembered what Severus had told him about that time. “So, it was just the three of you? My dad and Black?”

Lupin grimaced. “Yes, along with Peter Pettigrew we were the only Gryffindor boys in our year.”

“Who's he? I've never heard of him before.”

Lupin took a long drink of tea as he stared off into the distance. “I'm surprised Severus didn't tell you about him, although he did have a tendency to fade into the background. He wasn't nearly as popular as James or Black, and honestly, wasn't the brightest boy, but he was loyal, and the four of us called ourselves the Marauders. Peter was murdered by Black shortly after your parents died.”

Harry stared at him in horror. “He killed his friend?”

“Yes, along with twelve Muggles.”

“Severus spoke about that, but he didn't mention that Black killed one of his friends at the same time. I really hate him,” Harry said after a pause.

“You aren't the only one. We were rather disastrously misled about Black's true nature. James was especially close to him, which led to his death,” Lupin said bitterly.

“The Fidelius Charm,” guessed Harry.

Lupin tilted his head thoughtfully. “Severus has certainly told you a lot.”

“He thought someone needed to tell me the truth,” Harry said.

“I won't argue with that,” Lupin agreed, before lapsing into silence.

Harry wracked his brain for a lighter topic. “So, my dad played Quidditch, right? Which position did he play?”

Lupin smiled fondly. “Chaser. He was quite good, though from what I've seen, you're even better.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He became Captain in his sixth year, you know, I wouldn't be surprised if you did eventually...”

********

  
Harry and Draco spent Herbology discussing theories about Black's break in with Padma and Morag. Padma was convinced Black had left something important in Gryffindor tower when he was still a student, and that was what he was after, though Morag wasn't convinced. She thought he was after information, though she didn't say what about. The boys had to admit that her theory was more convincing than Padma's.

“Well, what do you think he's after, then?” she snapped.

When Draco automatically glanced at Harry, he kicked him under the table. “No idea. You're the Ravenclaws, you work it out,” he told the girls.

“I have, I told you,” Padma replied. She ignored three groans and spent the rest of the lesson elaborating on what she'd been saying earlier.

When Harry and Draco finished lunch they waited for Hermione and Neville to join them for the walk down to Hagrid's. Neville was looking completely miserable, and Harry noticed he was getting a few dirty looks from the other Gryffindors.

“Everything alright, Neville?” he asked.

“No. It's all my fault Black got in last night,” Neville said.

“What do you mean?” Draco asked.

Neville sighed. “The new portrait we had to replace the Fat Lady kept changing the passwords and I couldn't remember them. I got him to give me a list of them, but I lost it, and Black used it to get in last night.”

The Slytherins looked at him in shock. 

“He actually got into the common room?” Theo demanded.

“He got into my dorm,” Neville corrected.

“Oh my god! What happened?” Daphne squeaked.

“He went after Ron. Slashed his curtains with a knife, but left when he woke up and started screaming,” Neville related.

Daphne's eyes widened and she ran off to join Seamus where he was walking with Dean and Ron. 

“So now Sir Cadogan's been sacked, and the Fat Lady's been reinstated,” Hermione took up the tale. “She's still scared about what happened the first time, so Dumbledore's hired some security trolls to protect her.”

“And I've been banned from being given the password. I have to wait outside the portrait hole until someone comes in, and the trolls spend the entire time looking at me threateningly,” Neville finished glumly. “It's alright if I'm coming from a class with Hermione, but no one else is very happy me at the moment.”

“So much for house loyalty,” Millicent said in disgust.

“I can't really blame them. I always thought I should've been in Hufflepuff,” Neville said. 

Hermione shook her head in annoyance. “Nonsense. You belong in Gryffindor just as much as I do. It's hardly our fault they don't like us much. This will all blow over.”

********

  
Two weeks later Harry found out that things were still bad amongst the Gryffindors. He was sitting in their stand for the Gryffindor – Hufflepuff Quidditch match, and there was still some tension radiating from the third years, though Neville seemed more cheerful. Harry tried to ignore it all as he watched the match: Slytherin would be playing Hufflepuff after the Easter break, and Adrian had told the team to watch Hufflepuff's playing style closely. Harry had to admit that Cedric Diggory, their Seeker and new captain, was rather good – and quite attractive. He did his best to focus on Cedric's Quidditch skills throughout the match. Cedric was good, but Ginny still managed to beat him to the Snitch, giving Gryffindor a narrow win of two hundred and eighty to two hundred and fifty.

After an Easter break which was mostly spent finishing the huge pile of homework they'd been set, the Slytherin Quidditch team began training hard for their match against Hufflepuff. With only two matches left in the season, Slytherin was trailing in last place, and the entire team was feeling the pressure. They were now training every night, and Harry happily found himself too tired to worry about Black. 

In the changing rooms before the match the team watched Adrian pace up and down as he prepared his pre-match speech.

“Alright, team,” he eventually said. “We're too far behind in points to have any real chance of winning the Cup, but we can at least make sure we don't come in last place. Just play as you have been during practise. You all saw how Hufflepuff plays, so keep that in mind, and do your best. Do that, and we might even make it into second place.”

The team gave a half-hearted cheer and set off for the pitch. With Slytherin so far behind in points, the boos weren't as loud as they usually were, though they still managed to drown out the cheers from the Slytherin stand. Adrian shook hands with Cedric, and then the teams took off at Hooch's whistle.

Harry immediately shot above the other players to search unimpeded. He noticed that Cedric was doing the same and frowned. While Cho's strategy had centred around frustrating his own search for the Snitch, and Ginny had preferred to fly in lazy circles as she looked for the Snitch, Cedric seemed content to stay in one place and look from there. Harry liked to keep moving about the pitch as he searched for the Snitch. This posed a problem, since he'd have to remain close to Cedric to keep an eye on him. 

In the end, he needn't have worried. Hufflepuff put up a good fight, but the Slytherin Chasers were simply better. They were sixty points ahead when Harry managed to catch the Snitch and end the match. He sank down to the pitch with the Snitch still clutched in his fist as the team converged upon him.

“We've beaten Hufflepuff! We're not last!” Scarlett said excitedly.

“Whoever wins out of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw in a fortnight will beat us in the cup, but we could place second,” Adrian said. “Good work team, and I'm sure we'll do better next year.”

Cedric came over to shake Harry's hand. “You flew well,” he said with a rueful smile.

“Thanks,” Harry said in surprise. “You too.”

“Wanker,” muttered Draco as Cedric walked off. 

Harry looked at him with a sigh. “You're not still getting jealous, are you? I'm _your_ boyfriend, you git.”

“I know that,” Draco said smugly, taking his hand. “But no one's that nice. He's up to something.”

Harry laughed. “You're right. He's probably in league with Black, and is going to lure me to my death any day now.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “That's ridiculous and you know it.”

“I don't know, Trelawney has been pretty insistent that I don't have long left,” Harry teased. He pulled his hand out of Draco's and held it up. “Just look how short my life line is.”

********

  
In a way, Harry was glad Slytherin was out of the Quidditch Cup that year. The final match, between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, would take place only two weeks before exams started. He didn't want to think about having to fit Quidditch practise in to his heavy study load. At least he didn't have any further Patronus lessons with Severus. Harry was now able to consistently conjure his fawn without passing out in the face of a Boggart, and Severus declared them done in early April.

“You can use the time to study for your History of Magic exam,” he'd said with a smirk. 

He certainly had a point, Harry thought, throwing down his notes in disgust. It was the night before the Quidditch final, and he was studying in the common room with his friends. But try as he might, he couldn't make his brain focus on the endless lists of dead witches and wizards. He was sitting on the floor, leaning half on the couch and half against Draco's leg, and he was slowly sliding down as his notes bored him nearly to sleep. It didn't help that half of his parchment was covered in games of naughts and crosses and hangman. 

“I give up. I think I'll consider it a success if I can just stay awake through this exam,” Harry announced.

Daphne put down her own notes and stretched out her arms. “At least we don't have to study for Divination. All we need to do is lie and say we saw something in the crystal ball.”

“With extra marks if we say we saw Harry dying horribly,” Pansy giggled from beside her.

Harry picked up a cushion from the couch behind him and threw it at her. Theo looked up with a glare. “If you're not going to study, kindly shut the fuck up. Or tell Tracey and me more about Muggle transport.”

“At least you don't have your birthday the day before exams start,” Draco said darkly.

Harry twisted around to look up at him. “Shut it, you. I've got a surprise planned for your birthday.”

Draco perked up. “A surprise? What is it?”

“A surprise, you git,” Harry said in amusement. 

Draco looked at the others suspiciously. “You all know what it is, don't you.”

Pansy and Daphne both nodded and giggled. Even Theo smirked a little. 

“Fine. I'll just ask Crabbe and Goyle when they get back from the kitchens with our snacks,” Draco said. 

“You could try that,” Harry agreed.

“They don't know?”

“They do not,” confirmed Harry. 

“He'd have to be as dumb as they are to trust them with a secret,” Blaise drawled. 

“They'd give it up for a muffin,” Millicent said. 

“Worth a shot,” Draco pouted.

********

  
The entire school turned out for the Quidditch final, exams forgotten for the day. It was a beautiful late spring day, and Harry enjoyed the match. Gryffindor won by a landslide, three hundred to eighty, giving them the cup and Slytherin second place. The highlight for Draco had been Ginny's flying. Unlike Harry, when Cho had tried to block her Ginny had simply flown right into her, resulting in a penalty for Gryffindor, and a very grumpy Seeker for Ravenclaw.

Draco was still laughing over Cho's disgruntled expression that evening, and he found a ready companion in Scarlett, who was similarly impressed with Ginny and made a point of going over to congratulate Ginny on the Sunday. When Harry and Draco went out to study at their spot by the lake, he could see the two girls huddled together nearby with Archana Shetty, Scarlett's best friend. Harry didn't like this development. While far more sensible than Scarlett, Archie was so easy-going that it never took long for her to join in with Scarlett's mad ideas. Adding a Gryffindor to the mix wouldn't help matters. 

Finally, after weeks of revision, Draco's birthday arrived. 

“Is it time for my surprise?” Draco asked for the umpteenth time that day at lunch.

“Yes. Hurry up,” Harry replied. 

“Hey, it's my birthday, I'll dawdle if I want to,” Draco said. 

“Not if you want your present, you won't,” Harry said. 

In the dorm, Draco watched with undisguised impatience as Harry pulled two packages out of his trunk, along with his Invisibility Cloak. 

“Where are we going?”

“You'll see,” was all Harry would say. 

Draco pursed his lips as he followed Harry back out through the common room. Blaise winked at Harry as they passed by, and Pansy whispered something to Daphne, making her giggle.

Draco frowned at them. “Just how did you manage to get Pansy to keep quiet about this?”

“I asked her and Daphne to help me plan it, duh.”

“Now you're making me nervous,” Draco commented.

Harry grinned at him. “Relax, you'll find out what it is in a few minutes.”

He led Draco to the Room of Requirement and made him stand safely against the wall as he paced up and down, concentrating hard on what he wanted. He opened the door a little to stick his head through, then pulled it open fully when he saw he'd been successful.

“Happy birthday,” he said, as he waved Draco inside. 

Draco walked in to find an exact replica of the lounge from Malfoy Manor. The fire was burning brightly without giving off too much heat in the early summer evening. Apart from the lack of a tea tray, it could have been any number of evenings Harry had spent at the Manor the summer before second year. 

Draco turned around. “How did you know I was homesick?”

“I didn't, actually. I just wanted somewhere we both liked that wasn't from Hogwarts,” Harry explained. 

Draco walked into the room. “Thank you.”

Harry shut the door and sat down on the couch, patting the cushion beside him. “I'm not done.”

“Presents?” Draco asked eagerly as he sat down.

“Presents,” agreed Harry. 

He held out the first package, which Draco tore apart quickly. There were two books, which he turned over curiously.

Harry watched him a little nervously. “I've pretty much taught you everything I can about Parseltongue, so I thought I'd buy you a book on magical languages in general. And then the clerk I wrote to at Flourish and Blotts suggested that you might be interested in Mermish, so I bought you a book on that as well. There are quite a few hissy sounds in that, too, apparently, so we thought that might be a good place to start.”

Draco looked up with a smile. “Thank you. This looks quite interesting.”

“Good,” Harry said in relief. “And because I wasn't sure you'd like those, I also owled your mum for your favourite dessert from home. She sent it back to me under a warming charm.”

Draco took the proffered package from him and opened it. Inside was an apple crumble, steaming as if it had just come from the kitchen, with a bowl of whipped cream alongside it.

“I figured even if you didn't like the books, you'd at least like the apple -”

Harry's response was cut off when Draco put the dessert on the floor and lunged on top of him. There wasn't a lot of talking for a long while after that, as Draco had decided that lips and tongues were better used for other activities.

********

  
After an afternoon spent snogging Draco in the Room of Requirement, with occasional breaks for apple crumble, Harry had to knuckle down for exams. The third years had four days of exams, before they were freed on the Friday. Monday saw them transfiguring a teapot into a tortoise for McGonagall, and performing Cheering Charms for Flitwick. Harry had managed his tortoise alright, though its tail looked suspiciously like a handle, and did only slightly better in Charms. He'd been partnered with Draco, who was left with a slight but persistent giggle for fifteen minutes.

Arithmancy was that afternoon, which left Harry free to study for the next day. In the Care of Magical Creatures exam the next morning each student had to politely convince a Hippogriff to take them for a fly around the paddock. Harry was paired with a chestnut Hippogriff who seemed to like him straight away, and he felt confident about getting a good mark. Next up was making a Confusing Concoction for Severus, which he found incredibly easy, and Severus gave him a satisfied nod as he passed Harry's station. After such a good day, he didn't mind that he missed a few constellations in the Astronomy exam that night. 

Wednesday was History of Magic, which didn't go nearly as well. Harry made a sincere effort to remember all he'd learned about medieval witch hunts, but still ended up spending the last half hour of the exam doodling on a scrap piece of parchment. 

Finally, after the Herbology exam in which they each had to harvest a different plant without damaging it or being injured themselves, the third years had an afternoon free of exams. Harry and Draco used it to go visit Hagrid, as they hadn't seen him much with all the revision they'd been doing. The rock cakes may have been all but inedible, but at least they enjoyed themselves sitting outside with Hagrid as he told them all about the creatures he was thinking of getting for their fourth year classes. Some of them weren't even deadly.


	14. In Which Trelawney is Taken Seriously for Once

The last day of exams dawned bright and sunny, and Harry couldn't help feeling optimistic as he joined the rest of the class outside for their DADA exam. Lupin had devised the most interesting exam Harry had come across. It was a sort of obstacle course, in which each student faced the majority of the Dark creatures they'd studied that year (apparently, he couldn't find a werewolf or vampire willing to help with the exam), before it culminated in an old trunk containing a Boggart. 

Harry had time to stare around himself as the trunk turned out to be far bigger on the inside than on the outside, before he heard the rattling breathing of a Dementor. Harry pictured the first time he'd managed to cast a Patronus against a Dementor, and of the proud smile Severus had given him afterwards. A minute later he emerged from the trunk, having cast a perfect Patronus, to find Lupin smiling at him. 

“Full marks, Harry. I'll be sure to pass this along to Severus when I see him.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry grinned, as he waited for Draco to finish his exam. 

Ten minutes later Draco climbed into the trunk. Harry waited nervously as it shook a little, and he thought he heard yelling before Draco climbed out. “And your hair looks stupid pulled back like that, you bigoted jerk!” he yelled down into the trunk, then slammed the lid shut.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

Draco smiled. “Quite. I spent a while telling Death Eater Draco why he was an idiot. It was a lot of fun, actually.”

Lupin laughed. “That's an unusual method of dealing with a Boggart, but it certainly seems to have been effective.”

After the morning break, Harry walked up to the Divination tower with Daphne and Pansy. 

“We're making it all up?” he asked as they reached the top of the stairs.

“Of course,” Pansy said, looking at him as if he were thick.

Trelawney called them up alphabetically, leaving the already small class to dwindle. Vince and Greg both climbed down afterwards and walked off after grunting “good luck”. Daphne climbed up after Greg, and looked conspiratorially at Harry and Pansy when she returned. 

“Seriously, just make something up, it's your best bet,” she whispered before heading down the stairs.

Harry looked at Pansy. “Good luck, I guess,” he shrugged.

Pansy grinned at him before climbing the ladder, and Harry was left on his own. He was trying to figure out which method of dying Trelawney would find most convincing when Pansy returned, and then he was called.

He emerged into the classroom to find Trelawney sitting at a table with a crystal ball in front of her.

“Sit, my dear, sit, and tell me what you see,” she said in her best mystical voice.

Harry sat down and stared at the crystal ball in front of him. As always, all he saw was swirling mist. 

“Er, it's me,” he made up.

“Go on, my dear,” Trelawney urged.

“Er, I'm on my Firebolt. I'm playing Quidditch, and I've seen the Snitch,” Harry continued.

“And?”

“I reach out to grab it – it's just ahead of me – but, oh! My hand's slipped!”

Trelawney leaned forward. “What's happening?”

“I'm leaning forward – now I've taken both hands off my broom! And – oh, no!” Harry moaned.

“What, my dear, what is it?”

“I'm – I'm falling. So far... But this time I'm not slowing down! I -” Harry cut off and looked away.

“What happened?” Trelawney asked breathlessly.

“I – I died,” Harry intoned.

Trelawney stared at him before leaning back in her chair. “My dear, I'm sorry you should learn of your own early demise in our exam.”

Harry looked back her, doing his best to keep a sombre expression. “But at least now I know, right, Professor?”

“Yes, yes of course, my dear. Thank you, that is all,” Trelawney said somewhat mournfully.

Harry was nearly at the trapdoor when a strange noise made him turn around. Trelawney's eyes were rolling back in her head, and he worried she was having a fit or a stroke or something. When she opened her mouth, she wasn't speaking in her usual vague way, but in a harsh, guttural voice. 

“ _It will happen tonight. The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever before. Tonight... Before midnight... The servant... Will set out... To rejoin... His master..._ ”

Harry stared at her as her head suddenly slumped forward onto her chest. There was a brief pause, and then Trelawney shook her head slightly and smiled vaguely at him. 

“I'm sorry, my dear, was there something else?” she asked.

“No, Professor,” he said hurriedly, and climbed down the ladder before she could say anything else. 

He raced down the staircase on his way to the dungeons. He was panting heavily by the time he reached Severus' office and knocked on the door.

“Enter.”

Harry pushed open the door and stared wide-eyed at Severus as he tried to get his breath back. Severus flicked his wand to shut the door and led Harry over to a chair. 

“What is it?” he asked urgently.

“Trelawney – prophecy – I think it was real,” Harry gasped. 

Severus paled a little. “She had a prophecy?”

Harry nodded. “I think so... You told me a while ago that I'd recognise a real prophecy. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she was speaking in this weird voice.”

“What did she say?”

“Er... That tonight, Voldemort's servant will rejoin him. He's been trapped for twelve years, but tonight he's going to break free, and he'll help bring Voldemort back to life. And he'll be worse than before.”

Severus whirled around to his fireplace and threw some Floo powder into the flames. “Headmaster! I need to speak to you urgently!”

Harry heard Dumbledore's voice saying something, and then Severus grabbed him and pulled him into the flames.

Harry had a moment to marvel at the feeling of standing inside a fire without burning, before he was being spun around inside the green flames. He shut his eyes as smoke and soot blew into his face before he came to an abrupt stop. He would've fallen face forward if Severus hadn't maintained a strong grip on his arm. 

“Gentlemen. What can I do for you?” Dumbledore asked genially.

Severus didn't mince words. “Sybil's had a real prophecy. She told Harry that Black will be returning to the Dark Lord tonight.”

All trace of a smile left Dumbledore's face. “What exactly did she say, Mr Potter?”

Harry repeated what he'd told Severus, adding, “Oh, and Black will break free before midnight. She repeated that twice.”

“But no other clues? Did she mention where, or how?” Dumbledore asked.

“No, sir.”

“The entire Ministry is already looking for Black, if he tries anything...” Severus trailed off. 

“But if it has been prophesied...” Dumbledore replied. 

Severus glanced at Harry before continuing. “So you're saying we do nothing?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Of course not. Mr Potter, if you would be so good as to wait outside, I need a private word with Professor Snape.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry walked out of the office and immediately pressed his ear to the door, but either it had a Silencing Charm on it, or they were simply talking too quietly for him to make out anything. He gave up and leaned against the wall, feeling put out. He was the one who'd told them about the prophecy; surely that meant he should be allowed to know what they were planning?

A few minutes later Severus walked out and gestured for Harry to follow him onto the moving staircase.

“So what's happening?”

“The Headmaster will be informing Fudge that we suspect something will happen tonight, and then he will be alerting the Dementors as well,” Severus replied. 

Harry frowned. “That's it?”

“Yes. The prophecy wasn't exactly forthcoming with details. With any luck, the Minister will have all the Aurors on high alert tonight.”

They stepped off the staircase and into the corridor. As the gargoyles moved back to cover the entrance, Severus checked to make sure they were alone and turned to Harry. He didn't look happy. 

“Harry, I understand that you're worried, but there's nothing you can do now. And the Headmaster has asked that you keep this information to yourself.”

“Can I at least -”

“You may tell Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger, but that's it,” Severus said firmly.

“Alright,” Harry agreed reluctantly. 

“I'm glad you're taking this seriously, but keep in mind that Trelawney didn't mention anything about a threat to you, or anyone else here. By the sounds of things, Black may have given up his vendetta against you, and decided to leave the area completely, in order to reunite with the Dark Lord.”

Harry thought about it. “I guess. I just don't like the idea of doing nothing.”

“A sentiment I share. Still, there have been no sightings of the Dark Lord since you defeated Quirrell. It may take Black some time to even discover his whereabouts, and the Aurors may catch up to him in the mean time,” said Severus, not entirely convincingly.

********

  
The third years were talking boisterously when Harry joined them at the lunch table. Exams were finally finished, at least for the lower year levels, and everyone was excitedly discussing their plans for their first afternoon of freedom. Pansy was bossing everyone into going to sit by the lake.

Draco looked at Harry. “Sounds good to me.”

Harry bit his lip. “Actually, I need to talk to you and Hermione.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I just have to tell you guys something. I'll meet you both in the Room of Requirement in a few minutes, I just have to get something from my trunk first.”

Draco nodded. “There's a box of truffles on my bedside table, get that while you're down there.”

Harry made his way down to the dungeons, which were rather empty. There were a few older students studying in the common room, but it seemed that all the younger students were out enjoying the bright sunshine. He slipped into the dorm and picked up Draco's truffles, along with his Walkman, his Cloak and the Marauder's Map before hastening up to the seventh floor. 

He quickly paced opposite the tapestry and then led the other two into the resulting room. The floor was covered in many squashy bean bags, and there were shelves loaded with - 

“Board games, Harry?” Hermione asked. 

“I wasn't expecting that,” he said in bemusement. 

Draco sank gracefully into a bean bag and held his hands out for his truffles. “So what's wrong?”

Harry flopped rather less gracefully into his own bean bag and told them all about the prophecy. “And now we have to just sit and wait. How stupid is that?”

Draco and Hermione shared a glance. “What exactly were you planning to do?” Draco asked.

“I don't know. But anything has to be better than this!”

“Not really. If that prophecy is to be believed, it sounds like Black will be leaving Hogwarts for good – and that means he's no longer hunting you. I agree with Snape,” Draco decided. 

Harry looked at Hermione in mute appeal.

“Is that what all prophecies are like? Vague and unhelpful? I'm so relieved McGonagall talked me out of doing Divination this year,” she said, then paused under Harry's stare. “But that's not the point right now, is it? I agree with Draco. There's nothing we can do but let the Aurors do their job. Would you get in the way of a police investigation?”

“Of course not.”

“There you are, then. Now, fancy a game of Trivial Pursuit?”

“How do you play?” Harry asked.

“You've never played?” Hermione asked with a frown.

“Who with, the Dursleys? The masses of friends I had before Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

Hermione turned pink. “Sorry. You just go around the board and collect pie pieces.”

“I'm in,” Draco said eagerly.

Harry pressed play on his Walkman and watched Hermione set up the board. “So how'd your exams go?”

“Really well, I think. Except for Defence Against the Dark Arts. I messed that one up,” she said.

“I'm sure you were fine,” Harry said.

Hermione shook her head. “No, it was bad. Well, I think most of it went okay, but the Boggart at the end got me.”

“McGonagall expelling you again?” Draco asked.

“No, this time she told me I'd failed all of my exams. It took Lupin a while to calm me down after that,” she said. 

Harry winced sympathetically. “Well, this'll cheer you up, right?”

It didn't take long for Harry to lose all sympathy for Hermione as she collected pie piece after pie piece. By the time she finally managed to get a sports question right to win the game, Harry and Draco had banded together. Even so, their combined knowledge was only good for two pieces: sports (courtesy of Harry) and history (Draco was surprisingly good with Muggle history if it was from before the Statute of Secrecy).

“You cheated,” Harry said.

“Did not,” Hermione retorted. 

“Maybe not, but you deliberately mislead us both about the rules of the game,” Draco said. “You spend too much time with Slytherins.”

“So... It's your fault, then,” Hermione said brightly.

“Whatever. _I_ get to pick the next game,” Draco announced.

As he stood up and scanned the shelves, Harry helped Hermione pack up the game. It didn't take long before Draco sat back down holding Monopoly. “I read the description this time,” he said, shooting a dirty look at Hermione, “and this doesn't require encyclopaedic knowledge to play. We just need to make lots of money!”

A few hours later Harry was languishing in jail, nibbling on a truffle and watching as Draco bankrupted Hermione. 

“I think this is the best thing Muggles have ever come up with,” Draco said happily. “No offence, Harry, but Pearl Jam has nothing on this game. Now hurry up and get out of jail so you can come and stay at one of my lovely hotels.”

“I think I'm in for life, actually,” Harry said. 

“Let's just say you've won, Draco,” Hermione said, looking at her two remaining properties. “It's after curfew now, anyway.”

“But you both still have money to give me.”

Hermione got up. “And we've finished exams now. You'll have plenty of time to bankrupt us another day.”

“Fine. Just as long as we're all clear that I won,” Draco grudgingly agreed.

Harry pulled out the Map and activated it. “We should probably get under the Cloak. There are a few teachers out.” He stared at the Map some more. “It's a pity this doesn't show Dementors. I would've liked to see what they were -”

“What is it?” asked Hermione. 

Harry pointed at a dot out on the grounds. “This – no, here – that says 'Peter Pettigrew', right? I'm not imagining things?”

“Yes. What of it?” Draco asked. 

Harry stood up suddenly. “Because Lupin told me about him. He was murdered by Black twelve years ago.”

Hermione got up too. “Where are you going?”

“To see Lupin. Either he was lying to me, or Pettigrew's back from the dead. Coming?” Harry held up his Cloak. 

The three of them squeezed in under the Cloak and set off slowly. Hermione wasn't as used to walking in tandem under it as the boys were, and Harry was feeling increasingly impatient. When they were nearly at Lupin's office he glanced at the Map and pulled the Cloak off.

“We'll be fine, it's just a few corridors away,” he explained as he stowed the Cloak in his pocket. 

They walked briskly now, and had made it to the Defence corridor when Severus rounded the corner in front of them. He must have cut through a secret passage. 

“You were saying, Potter?” muttered Draco as Severus advanced on them. 

“I gave you leave to inform Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger about the prophecy. I do not recall telling you to do it whilst out after curfew,” Severus began. 

“Sorry, sir, but we need to see Lupin,” Harry said. 

Severus frowned. “Lupin? That would not be advisable at this time.”

For the first time, Harry noticed that Severus was carrying a smoking goblet with him. He ignored it and thrust the Map into Severus' other hand. “Look, out there by Hagrid's cabin. Peter Pettigrew.”

Severus stared hard at the Map. “Alright, you three go back to your dormitories -”

“What? No!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Mr Potter -”

“Sorry, but you can't just send us to bed after this!” Harry protested. Hermione elbowed him.

“I can assure you I am quite capable of doing just that,” Severus replied testily. “This doesn't concern you.”

“What? But it's my Map! I'm the one who saw him!”

“Yes, but -”

“Severus, what on earth is going on?”

They looked up to see Lupin walking towards them.

Harry took his chance. “Sir, Peter Pettigrew is on the Map.”

“What? Where?” Lupin snatched the Map off Severus, knocking the goblet to the floor. 

“By Hagrid's cabin,” Harry said. 

Lupin stood frozen for a moment before he broke out in a grin. “He's innocent!”

Severus snorted. “Black was never innocent, Lupin.”

“He is this time!” 

With that, Lupin shoved the Map against Severus' chest and ran off. Harry hesitated for a second before taking off after him. 

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked.

“Get back here before I Stun you!” yelled Severus. 

Harry ignored them both and pulled his Cloak back on as he kept running. Let Severus try to Stun him now. He heard a variety of swear words from behind him and then the sound of running. A few seconds later he saw Severus' Patronus race past him and head up a staircase, but he didn't have time to think about that now. He could see Lupin ahead of him, and was determined to catch up to him. And Pettigrew. 

He tore down two flights of stairs and burst through the front doors. He was gaining on Lupin now, but he couldn't lose sight of him in the mostly dark grounds. Lupin was slowing as he neared a tree on the way to Hagrid's. From the way the branches were waving around, Harry figured it was the Whomping Willow that had destroyed his broomstick. He watched as Lupin levitated a twig and hit the trunk with it. The branches immediately stopped, and Lupin disappeared through a gap in the tree's roots. As soon as he was gone the branches began to move around threateningly. 

Harry pulled the Cloak off again and came to a stop just outside the tree's reach. “ _Wingardium leviosa_ ,” he said. He aimed the twig at the trunk, hitting it in a few spots before he reached a knot on the trunk and the branches froze again. 

“Harry, stop!” Draco yelled. 

Harry darted forward and paused at the base of the tree, putting his hand on the knot as he looked back. “Hurry up if you're coming.”

Hermione looked at Draco briefly before she ran to join Harry. “Fucking Gryffindors,” Draco muttered as he followed. 

“ _Lumos_ ,” muttered Harry before he slid down a short earthen slide. He landed in a low tunnel and quickly moved away so the others could get down. They lit their wands as well and crept forward in a crouch. The tunnel seemed endless, and if Harry hadn't been able to see the faint light of Lupin's wand wavering ahead of him, he might have turned around. 

“We have to be halfway to Hogsmeade by now,” Draco whispered after a while.

“Further, I think,” Hermione replied. 

After an eternity the tunnel began to rise, and Harry could make out a different light, dimmer but steadier than Lupin's wand light. A minute later they reached a hole through which Harry could make out a run-down room. Through the thick dust were visible stains on the floorboards, the windows were all boarded up and what little furniture remained was smashed beyond repair. There was no sign of Lupin. 

“What is this place?” Draco whispered as he came through the hole.

“I think it's the Shrieking Shack,” Hermione said uncertainly.

“What, the haunted house?” Harry asked.

Draco eyed the broken furniture nervously. “Ghosts couldn't have done that. Peeves, maybe.”

Hermione shook her head. “He can't leave the school grounds. It's in _Hogwarts, A History_.”

Harry glanced around the room and saw an equally dilapidated hallway. He led the others in and up the staircase he found there. At the top there was one open door. Harry looked back at the others. Draco was paler than usual and Hermione's eyes were huge in the gloom, but they both nodded. 

“Let's do it,” Harry whispered, and pushed the door open. 

The room within was just as damaged as the rest of the house. There was a large four-poster bed with torn hangings in the centre of the room. Sitting on top of it was Crookshanks, who was playing with a rat and purring loudly. 

“Crookshanks!” gasped Hermione.

“Very smart cat you've got there,” someone croaked. 

They turned as one to find Lupin standing in the corner of the room, his wand held loosely in one hand, and beaming at the man who had spoken. He was wearing tattered prison garb, and had matted black hair that hung in a tangle down his back. He was gaunt to the point of looking seriously ill, but was smiling back at Lupin. 

“Sirius Black!” Hermione shrieked and pointed her wand at him. Harry and Draco moved closer to her. 

“Hermione, no!” Lupin held up a hand. 

“What's going on?” demanded Harry. 

“Just hear us out,” Lupin said. 

“Us? _Us?_ You've been working with him all along?” Draco demanded. He too raised his wand, but pointed it at Lupin. 

“Of course not. Before tonight I thought him as guilty as you do,” Lupin said. “More so, probably, since I knew the whole story – or at least, I thought I did.”

Black shook his head. “Not your fault, Moony.”

Harry raised his own wand and tried to remain calm. “Is there a good reason why you keep smiling at the man who sold out my parents?”

“Good question, Harry.”

Harry spun around to see Severus edge through the door with his wand aimed squarely at Black's chest. He walked in front of Harry to stand between him and Black. 

“Keep your big nose out of this, Snivellus,” sneered Black. 

Severus sneered back at him. “I think not, Black. Not until I've seen you handed over to the Dementors.”

Lupin paled. “Severus, you don't understand.”

“No? It looks to me like you've been in league with Black all along, Lupin. I did express my concerns about your employment to Dumbledore, but had hoped I was wrong about them. Looks like the Dementors will be getting two victims tonight,” Severus said.

Black bared his teeth. “If you hurt Remus I'll kill you.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “How? I'm the one with a wand.”

With surprisingly fast reflexes for someone looking half-dead, Black grabbed Lupin's wand and pointed it at Severus. 

Without conscious thought, Harry wormed around Severus and glared up at Black over his own wand. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

A deep confusion settled over Black's face as Lupin's wand went spinning out of his hand. “Remus? Why is Harry protecting Snape?”

Lupin sighed. “How about everyone lowers their wands?”

“No,” came the emphatic response from four people. 

“Right,” Lupin said in resignation. “Harry, Sirius didn't betray your parents. Peter did.”

Snape frowned. “Pettigrew?”

“The rat,” Lupin said, pointing at Crookshanks. 

Crookshanks stopped playing with the rat as everyone stared at him. He pressed one paw into the rat's back, seemingly enjoying its struggles to get free.

“Scabbers?” Hermione asked suddenly.

“What, Weasley's rat?” Draco asked. 

“Yes,” Black said, glaring over at it. “He's an Animagus.”

Severus let out a short laugh. “Pettigrew, an Animagus? He barely knew which way to hold his wand.”

“He had some help,” Black said shiftily. 

“Look, we can explain. All we need is five minutes, preferably without you all pointing your wands at each other,” Lupin said. 

“Give me one good reason,” Severus spat. 

Lupin looked at him levelly. “Don't you want to know the truth about who betrayed Lily?”

“Yes,” Harry said immediately.

Severus looked at him and lowered his wand fractionally. “Make it quick.”

Lupin looked at Black. “I think this would be easier if Peter could talk, don't you?”

Black nodded impatiently as Lupin retrieved his wand and pointed it at the rat. There was a flash of blue-white light, and then Scabbers twisted so violently that Crookshanks hissed and jumped away from him. Another flash of light, and then the rat began to grow. Harry watched in fascination as it turned into a man, crouched over on the bed. He was small and drab, and still looked rather rat-like as he stared up at them through watery eyes. 

“Remus, Sirius, how – how nice to see you,” he said. 

“Can't say the same myself,” Black growled.

Pettigrew looked at him in alarm before turning to Lupin. “Remus, please, he's going to kill me!”

“Yes, I am,” Black said with a feral grin. 

“No, you're not.”

Everyone turned to stare at Draco.

“Why not?” Black asked sullenly.

“Because that makes no sense. Do you want revenge, or do you want to prove your innocence? Assuming you are innocent, that is,” Draco replied. “You need him to confess, don't you?”

Lupin nodded. “He's right, Sirius.”

Black frowned. “Fine.”

Pettigrew was still looking at Lupin imploringly. “Remus, you can't believe him. He's a Death Eater!”

“That was my brother, you idiot,” Black snapped. 

“You lie! This is all a trick – You-Know-Who must have taught him something, Remus...”

Severus glared at both Black and Pettigrew. “I'm beginning to doubt that. But the Dark Lord did teach _me_ a thing or two. I can give you a personal demonstration, if you don't start talking.”

“There's no need for that, Severus.”

Dumbledore was standing in the doorway with his wand up. McGonagall was beside him, staring at Pettigrew in shock. 

“You're supposed to be dead,” she said accusingly. 

“He will be soon,” Black growled. 

“Sirius!” Lupin looked at him sharply before turning back to the newcomers. “Peter was just about to explain to us all how he faked his own death.”

Pettigrew's eyes were darting about, but he didn't look like he was about to start talking anytime soon. 

“James and Lily switched Secret Keepers at the last moment, Harry,” Black said. “It was originally supposed to be me, but we thought that would be too obvious – James' best man, your godfather... So I suggested they use Pettigrew instead. After all, who would ever suspect him?”

Pettigrew was shaking his head, looking terrified. 

Black continued. “The night Voldemort attacked you, I went to Pettigrew's hiding place. We'd arranged for me to check up on him. When I got there he was gone, with no sign of a fight. I knew straight away that he'd betrayed us, and flew straight to Godric's Hollow. I found -” he cleared his throat. “I found James and Lily's bodies, and you, Harry, crying in your cot. The house was half destroyed, but Voldemort was gone. I was trying to calm you down when Hagrid arrived, and told me to hand you over to him. He was going to take you to your relatives. I loaned him my motorbike.”

Harry looked at him steadily. All of what Black had just said tied in with what Hagrid had told him about that night. 

“What about the next day? All those Muggles who died?” McGonagall asked sharply. 

Black's face screwed up in a grimace. “I went after Pettigrew. I tracked him down in a Muggle neighbourhood. He shouted that I'd killed James and Lily – loud enough for the entire street to hear. Then he cut off his finger, aimed a curse behind him and turned into a rat before I could do anything. That's why I was laughing when the Aurors got there – I couldn't believe he'd outsmarted me like that.”

“Turned into a rat?” McGonagall pressed. 

“He's an Animagus,” Lupin explained. 

“As was James. And, er, me,” Black admitted. 

Harry looked at him with interest. This was the first he'd heard about James being an Animagus.

“It's my fault. I'm a werewolf, you see,” Lupin looked at the kids apprehensively.

“Yeah, we know,” Harry said. 

Lupin looked taken aback, but continued. “Well, when my friends found out I was a werewolf, they took it upon themselves to become Animagi, in order to keep me company at the full moon.”

“The three of you managed this while still at school?” McGonagall asked.

Black nodded. “Fifth year. It's how I stayed sane in Azkaban: the Dementors didn't affect me as much when I was a dog. They couldn't see that I'd transformed, so I was able to slip past them once I found out Pettigrew was alive and swam to shore.”

“How _did_ you find that out?” Lupin asked.

“He was on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. The family he was staying with won a prize, and he was photographed with them. The Minister for Magic gave me his copy when he came to inspect Azkaban last summer.”

“So you haven't been trying to kill me all year? You've been after Pettigrew all along?” Harry asked.

Black nodded. 

McGonagall was frowning. “Why didn't you _tell_ someone he was alive? Remus at least would have been able to recognise his Animagus form. Surely you could have owled him instead of breaking into the school repeatedly?”

For an instant, Black looked like a schoolboy being scolded by a teacher. 

Severus snorted. “He's clearly insane.”

“Not insane, Severus. Merely made reckless through desperation, I think,” Dumbledore said. “I have to say this is all making a lot of sense to me, Peter. Have you nothing to say in your defence?”

Pettigrew opened his mouth a few times before finding his voice. “All right, I did it! I told You-Know-Who where they were staying. But you don't understand! What could I do? I was trapped! He would have killed me if I hadn't told him!”

“What could you have done instead of giving up your friends like that? How about fighting back? Coming to someone else for help?” Black spat. 

“He wouldn't have done that. He was the Dark Lord's spy, had been for months, hadn't you, Pettigrew?” Severus glared at Pettigrew with utter loathing. “I knew he had a spy close to the Potters, but I never would have thought it was you.”

“You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Snape? You became one of his most favoured followers, didn't you?” Pettigrew looked around the group before staring at Harry. “Do you know, Potter? Do you know why You-Know-Who went after your parents? After _you?_ It was because of Snape.”

Harry looked up at Severus, who was looking more murderous than ever. “What's he talking about?” Harry whispered. 

“Not now, Mr Potter,” Dumbledore interjected. “I believe it is high time that we returned to Hogwarts and alerted the Ministry to tonight's events.”

He conjured up thick ropes that bound Pettigrew head to foot. 

“ _Petrificus totalus_ ,” McGonagall muttered, and Pettigrew fell to the floor with a crash. “Ropes won't hold an Animagus, Albus.”

“Quite right, Minerva,” Dumbledore said. “If that's all -”

He cut himself off, and Harry could see why. Lupin had gone rigid, then he began to shake. 

“Moonrise. He didn't take his Wolfsbane tonight,” Severus said shakily. 

Harry stared in horror as Lupin's limbs began to lengthen and fur sprouted all over his body. His mouth began to push out as it grew into a muzzle, and Harry could see his teeth were growing longer and sharper.

Harry was jerked back as Severus gathered Harry, Draco and Hermione behind him at the same time that Black jumped forward. He turned into a large black dog in mid-air, knocking both McGonagall and Dumbledore to the ground. Dumbledore managed to cushion his fall with his hands, but McGonagall was not so lucky. She hit her head and fell unconscious, releasing the spell on Pettigrew. He too transformed and easily slipped out of the ropes that had been binding him. He scurried off as Lupin, now a full-fledged werewolf, began fighting with Black. 

As the two animals began snapping viciously at each other, Severus slashed his wand down, crying “ _Protego!_ ” A transparent blue shield sprung up between the humans and the fight. “Hurry up, Albus,” Severus said urgently. His wand hand was shaking as he held it up.

Dumbledore knelt up by McGonagall. “ _Rennervate_.” McGonagall immediately stirred and Dumbledore helped her stand. 

She brushed him away. “I'm fine.” As if to prove it, she steadfastly ignored the fight and aimed her wand at the wall. “ _Reducto_.” 

The wall was blasted outwards, showering the floor with bits of wood and plaster. Harry felt Severus push him through the hole and grabbed for Draco and Hermione's hands. They landed on a grassy slope and rolled a few metres before coming to a stop. Harry twisted around to stare back at the Shrieking Shack. Snarls and yelps of pain were coming through the hole in the wall.

Dumbledore raised his wand again. Harry watched as the wall re-knit itself, sealing the fight off from the outside world. They sat on the ground for a moment breathing heavily.

“He got away. We had him, and he got away,” Harry said bitterly.

“And now he's free to search for his master,” McGonagall said, sighing heavily.

“It seems Sybil has made her second true prediction,” said Dumbledore.

Harry shared an incredulous look with Draco at Dumbledore's apparent unconcern.

“Are they – will they be contained in there?” Hermione asked.

“Oh yes, Miss Granger. When Professor Lupin was a student, he was sequestered in the Shrieking Shack during his monthly transformations. We are quite safe,” Dumbledore said.

They began picking themselves off the ground. Severus held out a hand to Harry. He ignored it and climbed to his feet alone. Severus stared at him before nodding jerkily and looking away. 

“Is Sirius safe in there?” Harry asked McGonagall. 

“Yes. A werewolf's bite cannot transmit the condition to an animal, and I gather that Sirius is used to dealing with this particular werewolf whilst in his Animagus form,” McGonagall answered.

A howl cut through the air, making them all jump slightly. 

Dumbledore turned to the group. “Minerva, Severus, kindly escort our students to the infirmary. It has been an eventful evening, and you shall all be in need of some chocolate after passing through the Dementors.”

“What about you?” Severus asked. 

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “I need to go meet with the Minister for Magic. He needs to be informed of tonight's revelations.”

He turned and Apparated away. 

“Come along, then,” McGonagall said wearily. 

They began the long trek back to Hogwarts in silence, for which Harry was grateful. He was too busy trying to figure out what Pettigrew had meant about Severus to have time for conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trelawney's prophecy is taken verbatim from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.


	15. In Which Severus has Some Explaining to do, and Narcissa Surprises Draco

Despite the exhaustion that was beginning to set in after the events in the Shrieking Shack, Harry couldn't help staring at all the buildings as they walked through Hogsmeade. It looked like a postcard village, comprised of quaint shops and cosy looking cottages. Draco and Hermione quietly pointed out their favourite shops to him as the teachers followed silently. 

Harry felt the chill of the Dementors as they neared the gates to Hogwarts. He reached out to hold Draco's hand, who in turn gave his other hand to Hermione. 

“Cast your Patronus, Harry,” Severus said quietly. 

Harry pictured his first kiss with Draco. “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” he said. 

His fawn sprang out of his wand and trotted next to him. Severus' doe and a cat that obviously belonged to McGonagall joined it, and walked soundlessly on the outside of the group as they drew nearer to the Dementors. 

“You didn't tell me it was a fawn, Severus,” McGonagall murmured. 

“Now is not the time,” Severus replied. 

Harry determinedly didn't look at the Dementors as they walked through the ones stationed to the sides of the school gates. The two professors whispered a spell together when they reached the gates to open them, and paused once they were all inside to reseal them with another spell. 

They used the glow of the Patronuses to guide them up the drive to the castle. Once inside the Entrance Hall, McGonagall began to lead them to the infirmary, but Severus stopped her.

“There's no need to disturb Poppy; I've plenty of chocolate in my office.”

Harry felt a funny twisting in his stomach at that. He knew the chocolate was left over from his Patronus lessons with Severus, but he couldn't get Pettigrew's final words out of his mind. He'd known that as a Death Eater, Severus must have committed some terrible acts, but there was a difference between knowing that abstractly, and learning that he had something to do with the deaths of Harry's parents.

Severus lit the fire as soon as he walked into his office, and conjured up enough chairs for everyone. As everyone sat down, he pulled a large slab of chocolate out of a drawer and broke it up. 

“There's a Cheering Draught mixed into it, but no whiskey, I'm afraid,” he said to McGonagall.

“Pity,” she sniffed, eliciting some smiles. 

“So what's going to happen to Sirius now?” Harry asked. 

McGonagall paused thoughtfully. “I imagine that he'll go on trial given that at least one of his supposed victims has turned out to be very much alive. We may be called in as witnesses, or they may just view our memories of the night in a Pensieve. In the meantime, I doubt he'll be going back to Azkaban. The Ministry has holding cells, and after Azkaban, they would seem like somewhat of a vacation.”

“It should turn out to be an embarrassing headache for the Ministry,” said Severus. 

“I'm sure the _Daily Prophet_ will have a field day with the whole affair. Now, if the three of you have no more questions, it really is time for you to get to bed,” McGonagall said briskly.

“Actually, I need to speak to Mr Potter,” Severus said. 

Harry remained in his seat as the others stood up and left the room. 

“Harry, about what Pettigrew said -”

Harry's head jerked up. “So it's true then? Voldemort went after us because of you?”

A pained expression flitted over Severus' face. “Yes, though there is more to the story than that.”

“I don't want to hear it,” Harry said, pushing himself up angrily. 

He was out the door before Severus had a chance to say anything. He stalked angrily down the corridor towards the common room, the pounding of his heart thundering in his ears.

“Harry!”

Harry whirled around outside the common room entrance. “What! What can you possibly say that will make this okay? My parents are fucking dead because of you!”

Severus stopped dead. “I – I'm sorry.”

“I'm not interested!”

Severus' normally pale skin turned an unhealthy grey colour. “I'm so sorry.”

“Save your breath,” Harry spat, turning to go.

“Just – please – hear me out,” Severus said.

Harry turned and glared at him. “Why should I?”

Severus took a tiny step forward. “Information, even if it is distasteful or painful, is usually beneficial.”

Harry clenched his fists and stared at Severus, who met his gaze with a stricken expression. Harry recognised the words from his first Christmas at Hogwarts, and was reminded of the first time Severus had told Harry anything about Lily. Hating himself for giving in to the manipulation – and Severus for using it – Harry crossed his arms and nodded once.

“Thank you. I promise that you can hate me as much as you want once I'm done.” 

Harry didn't say anything, but just glared at Severus. 

“When I gave the Dark Lord the information that sent him after your family, I did not know to whom it referred,” Severus began. 

“How does that work?” Harry asked, despite himself.

“I overheard a prophecy. It pertained to the Dark Lord and I went straight to him to inform him of it,” Severus said.

“Why?”

“I was ambitious and wanted his favour,” Severus said simply.

Harry found himself grinding his teeth and forced himself to relax his jaw. “Go on.”

“As you discovered today, the information contained within them can be vague, confusing or even misleading.”

Harry nodded. “So what did the prophecy say?”

Severus closed his eyes and recited, “'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.'”

Harry frowned at him. “And Voldemort figured that meant me? There must have been heaps of kids born in July.”

Severus opened his eyes again. “But only two of whom had parents who had fought – and escaped from – the Dark Lord three times.”

“Do you know who the other one was?”

“Neville Longbottom,” Severus said quietly. 

Harry stared at him. This certainly explained the way Severus treated Neville in Potions classes, when he was no worse than Ron or Seamus were. 

“So he went after both of us? 'Cause Neville's parents are dead, aren't they? That's why he lives with his grandmother?”

Severus pursed his lips. “They are not dead, no. A group of Death Eaters caught up to them after the Dark Lord had disappeared. It had nothing to do with the prophecy.”

“So why'd he choose me, then? Did he play eeny meeny miney moe or something?”

“I do not know how he made his decision, but I highly doubt he used that method. In any case, once I learned of his choice, I begged him to spare Lily's life.”

“Just hers?” Harry asked sharply.

“Just hers,” Severus looked away.

“Because you wanted to shag her.”

Severus flushed at that, an angry red that didn't go with the pallor of his face. “Yes. But it was more than that. She'd been my friend... But I also hated your father, and you were a faceless infant to me. While I didn't want you to die, I also didn't care about either one of you on a personal level.”

Harry bit his lip and blinked rapidly. “Well, you're honest, I guess.”

Severus looked at him steadily. “Surely you are aware that I have since changed my mind, at least in regards to you?” 

Harry managed a weak smile, but said nothing. 

Severus cleared his throat. “In any case, the Dark Lord agreed to spare Lily, an agreement he actually adhered to, as evidenced by your memory of the attack.”

“So that's why he told her to get out of the way.”

“Indeed. However, I didn't trust him to keep his word, so I went to the one person I thought could help: Albus Dumbledore. I told him that the Dark Lord was convinced the prophecy referred to you, and begged him to keep you all safe. In return, I agreed to spy on the Dark Lord for him.”

“But it didn't help. He found us anyway,” Harry said bitterly. Severus nodded. “So, that bit about vanquishing Voldemort... Did I do that as a baby? Or will I need to hunt him down?”

Severus raised his hands helplessly. “I do not know, to be honest. The Headmaster believes that the Dark Lord will come after you, should he ever return.”

“So I do need to kill him, then.”

“You do not _need_ to do anything,” Severus snapped, taking Harry by surprise. He took a breath and continued in a calmer voice. “If the prophecy has not yet been fulfilled – and note that I said _if_ – you may eventually find yourself in a position from which you can defeat the Dark Lord for good. However, that does not mean that you'll be sent out to fight him anytime soon. Sending a teenager up against the Dark Lord would be a remarkably idiotic course of action.”

“But one day,” Harry persisted.

“Perhaps. But should that happen, know that you will not be alone,” Severus said firmly. 

This time, Harry almost managed a proper smile. “Thanks. I'm still mad at you.”

“You have every right to be,” Severus said.

“Really mad.”

“I know. What I did was...”

“Selfish? Stupid? Disgusting? Awful?” 

“All of those things. I won't ever deny that,” Severus said, then took another step forward. “I have been working to atone for that for my entire adult life. And I know that nothing will ever make up for what I did, but -”

“I'll forgive you,” Harry blurted, because he couldn't bear to hear Severus beg any longer. “Not now. But... Eventually.”

Harry saw more than a bit of relief in Severus' answering smile. “You are a better person than I am.”

“Clearly,” Harry said, though the heat had gone out of his voice.

“Yes, well. I think it's high time you returned to your dormitory.”

He walked Harry over to the doorway and stopped. “And Harry, keep this conversation to yourself. The Headmaster will likely be annoyed with me for telling you as much as I have as it is. You may tell Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger, but that's it.”

Harry nodded. 

Severus hesitated a bit, then reached up and squeezed Harry's shoulder. “Try not to worry about the prophecy. As I said, it is only a possibility, and one that shan't arise anytime soon.”

Harry nodded again, whispered the password and slipped in the door. The events of the night were catching up to him, and all he wanted to do was collapse into bed. The dorm was dark when he got there, with only Draco still up. 

“What did he want?” Draco whispered over the sound of Vince's snores. 

“I'll tell you tomorrow, with Hermione,” Harry said. He got changed quickly and sank onto his bed. “Can you sleep in my bed tonight?”

“Of course.”

Draco slid in behind him and wrapped his arms around Harry. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, squeezing Draco's hand. “Just a lot to deal with. But I'm fine now.”

Draco kissed the back of Harry's neck. “Good.”

********

  
After a much needed sleep in, Harry and Draco got up to find the Slytherin common room practically deserted. With the end of exams there had been a Hogsmeade visit organised for the Friday, and most of the older students were out celebrating. Harry and Draco tracked down Hermione in the Great Hall, and gathered a small picnic of croissants and pumpkin juice. They sat behind their rock by the lake, watching the first and second years who were paddling in the shallows, as Harry related his conversation with Severus. Both Hermione and Draco paled when Harry told them about the prophecy.

“But it won't affect me yet, he said. And he pretty much promised that he'd help me if it came down to it,” Harry tried to reassure them.

“And us,” Hermione said. Draco nodded.

“Thanks, guys,” Harry said, touched. 

Harry lay back and put his head in Draco's lap. He'd been worried his friends would freak out at the news.

“I wonder what happened to Neville's parents, if they're still alive,” Hermione mused.

“You don't know?” Draco asked.

“Do you?” Harry asked

“Yes.”

“Well?” Hermione asked after Draco didn't elaborate.

Draco sighed. “Like Snape said, some Death Eaters caught up to them after the Dark Lord disappeared, just when everyone was starting to think things were safe again. The attack shocked everyone, according to Mother, and there were even calls for the Death Eaters to be executed.”

“Were they?” Harry asked. 

“No, they were sent to Azkaban for life.”

“What did they do to Neville's parents?” Hermione asked.

“They tortured them for information about the Dark Lord's whereabouts. It sent them insane, and they've been in St Mungo's ever since. Hospital,” Draco said before Harry could ask.

“That's horrible,” Hermione said, putting her hand over her mouth. 

“Yes,” Draco said. “Listen, don't say anything about this, especially not near Mother. Her sister was one of the Death Eaters who did it.”

Harry looked up at Draco's unhappy face. “Just how many relatives do you have in Azkaban?”

“Just two,” Draco said. “Well, four, if you count my aunt's husband and his brother.”

Harry clasped Draco's hand. “How did you and your mum end up so nice?”

“Because we're clearly the best people in the entire family,” Draco said. “Although you'll like Mother's other sister and her family. You'll meet them over summer, I expect.”

“I will?” Harry asked.

“Yes. You're coming to the Manor as soon as possible. And you can come too, Hermione, whenever you like, though I expect you'll want some time with your parents.”

“How considerate,” Hermione said drily.

“I thought so,” Draco said complacently. “But you will have to visit. Mother will be getting tickets for the Quidditch World Cup, and you both need to come.”

“I didn't know there was a Quidditch World Cup,” Harry said eagerly. 

“Of course there is. Britain hasn't hosted it in decades, so you've got to come.” Draco looked across at Hermione. “You'll get to see what wizards from other countries are like.”

Hermione smiled. “I am interested in Quidditch, Draco. I'm just not obsessed with it like you two are. And staying at the Manor would be nice.”

“That's settled, then,” Draco said in satisfaction. 

They fell silent after that, and Harry was so comfortable lying in the warm sun that he was nearly dozing off when a thought occurred to him. He struggled upright, making Draco grumble.

“Sorry. I'm going to go see Lupin, do you two want to come?”

With nothing else to do, they readily agreed. It was pleasant to get back into the cool of the castle, and Draco was starting to look a bit sunburnt. They found Lupin sitting at his desk with stacks of exams in front of him. 

“Hello,” he said with a smile. “Come in. I couldn't concentrate on these much anyway. At least now I'll have an excuse. You want to talk about last night, I presume.”

They nodded as they sat down. 

“Let me start by apologising for putting you in danger. It was foolish not to take my potion, to say the least.”

“That's understandable, given that you'd just found out that Sirius was innocent,” Harry said.

“Yes, well, I've handed Dumbledore my resignation letter,” Lupin said.

“What? But you're the best Defence teacher we've had!” Hermione burst out.

Lupin smiled. “Thank you. But I cannot put students in danger like that.”

Harry nodded, but he wasn't happy about it. 

“Not to mention that the Headmaster is, ah, less than pleased that I didn't inform him of Sirius' Animagus form. He understands why,” Lupin assured them, “but all the same... And McGonagall has been hounding me all morning for details on how they all achieved the transformations so young. It will be a relief to get some space, to tell you the truth.”

There was a pause, then Lupin stood up. “Do you want some Butterbeer? I've a few bottles somewhere...”

He retrieved them from a trunk and handed them out. “I feel I should say something, but I'm having trouble thinking of the right words,” he admitted.

Harry held his bottle up. “How about, to friendship?”

They clinked bottles, and Harry took a hasty gulp. “About the Animagus stuff – what was my dad?”

“James was a stag, just like his Patronus. That's why we called him Prongs, because of his antlers,” Lupin said. 

Harry nodded, not surprised. “What's with my family and deer?”

“I'm not sure. Perhaps you could research animal symbolism,” Lupin said. 

“I think I'll start calling you Bambi,” Hermione smirked.

“Don't you dare!” Harry retorted.

Draco looked confused. “Bambi?”

“Muggle movie about a deer, responsible for a whole lot of childhood trauma,” Hermione explained. 

Lupin grinned. “Yes, well, before he left with the Aurors this morning, Sirius asked me to give you this, Harry.”

Harry took the bit of parchment from him.

_I, Sirius Black, as Harry Potter's godfather, give him permission to visit Hogsmeade village._

“Thanks!”

“You should probably give that to the Headmaster, rather than Professor Snape. He's already annoyed at the prospect of giving evidence towards Sirius' freedom,” Lupin said. “Sirius also asked me to apologise if he gave you a fright when you saw his Animagus form last summer.”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, but at least now I know it wasn't the Grim.”

Lupin nodded. “He also wanted me to tell you that it was he who sent you the Firebolt. To make up for all the birthdays and Christmases he missed, not as an attempt to kill you.”

“How did he manage to buy it?” Draco asked.

“He had Crookshanks take the order for him, under Harry's name, with directions to take the money from his own Gringotts vault.”

“I'm beginning to think Crookshanks likes Sirius more than he does me,” muttered Hermione. 

Lupin finished his Butterbeer. “I really must get back to these exams. But before you leave, let me tell you that you all did extremely well in Defence Against the Dark Arts. You came top in your year, Harry.”

“Really? I beat Hermione?” Harry looked at her sideways. 

“One subject, Potter, don't get a big head,” she replied. 

Lupin stifled a smile. “One last thing. How long have you known that I'm a werewolf?”

“Since Snape took us for Defence,” Draco said. 

“Ah. That was his intention.”

“Yeah, he was pretty pleased with himself,” Harry said. “But we haven't told anyone.”

“Thank you, that was very considerate. Now go out and enjoy the sunshine.”

********

  
The rest of term passed pleasantly. The Dementors had been removed from the school, and the only thing Harry had to worry about was making plans for a summer at Malfoy Manor. He'd even managed to say a civil farewell to Severus after the last Potions lesson of the year.

The students received their exam results at breakfast on the last day of school. As well as coming in top of the year in DADA, Harry had also come out first in Potions, thanks no doubt to his summer with Severus. His Herbology marks were also much better than last year. He'd passed everything else, though History of Magic had been a close call. 

The feast that night took place under yellow and black banners.

“How?” Pansy kept asking.

“Not all Hufflepuffs are useless, Parkinson,” Draco glared at her. “My cousin's a Hufflepuff.”

Pansy gaped at him. “Are you feeling okay? You are the real Draco Malfoy, aren't you?”

“No, I'm Professor Sprout under Polyjuice Potion,” Draco snapped. 

“Could be Confunded,” Theo commented. 

“Or drunk,” Blaise added. 

“Oh, do shut up. Go back to making moon eyes at Chang,” Draco said.

Blaise looked over at the Ravenclaw table and slumped down in his seat a bit. “I don't think it's going to last much longer. She's very clingy, and not in the good way.”

“I suppose you're going to dump her so you can find someone else over summer?” Daphne asked. 

“Probably, yeah,” Blaise said. “Want a crack at me?”

“Still a no, Zabini,” she sniffed.

As they made their way back to the dungeons, Harry caught up to Gemma. “I just wanted to thank you. You know, for looking out for me this year.”

Gemma smiled. “No problem, Harry.”

“Have you heard back about your application?”

Gemma's smile widened. “Yes. I've been accepted! I start in July.”

Harry grinned. “Congratulations. You'll do great.”

“I know.” Gemma gave him a hug. “I'm sure I'll see you around, Harry. Though hopefully not for any criminal trials.”

“I'll do my best,” Harry said. 

When he got back to the dorm he found all the girls had joined them for a last night celebration. Theo and Tracey were setting up a game of poker.

“Why do we always meet in our dorm?” Harry asked as he sat down between Draco and Pansy.

“Because some of us can't get into the girls' dorms,” Blaise said with a scowl. 

“And for good reason,” Daphne said tartly. “I don't want to know what you'd get up to.”

“A lot of fun. I could show you if you like,” leered Blaise, making Daphne stick her tongue out at him.

“The protective enchantments on the girls' dorms read intentions. If you're interested in girls, you can't get into their dorms,” Theo explained. 

“The founders didn't consider the fact that girls might quite like to get into the boys' dorms. It's in _Hogwarts, A History_ ,” Tracey added. 

Harry laughed. “You sound like Hermione.”

“So sorry for wanting to read up on the castle I spend the majority of my life in,” Tracey said. 

Millicent looked up from her cards. “Can we start? I could do with some extra spending money.”

********

  
Even with the prospect of the Quidditch World Cup to look forward to, Harry was still dreading the summer as he boarded the Hogwarts Express. He found an empty compartment with Draco, Hermione and Neville. He began wondering what his life would have been like if Voldemort had chosen Neville over him, and forced himself to snap out of it. It wasn't Neville's fault, and he'd suffered all the same.

He was broken from his morbid thoughts by the arrival of Ginny, Luna, Archie and Scarlett. 

“That sounds like fun!” Scarlett was saying as she plopped down next to Harry. 

“Yes, Daddy's very confident this time,” Luna said.

“What about?” Neville asked.

“He thinks he's found a colony of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks,” Luna said. 

“What?” Draco asked. 

Luna nodded. “In Estonia. It's a very important breakthrough, isn't it? He's organised an expedition for July.”

Hermione shook her head. “They don't exist.”

“Yes, they do. They're just shy,” Luna said. 

“I don't know, Hermione. Didn't people think platypuses were a hoax at first?” Harry teased.

Hermione shot him a withering look. “That's not the same and you know it.”

“What's a platypus?” Archie asked. 

“An Australian mammal. It looks like a beaver with a duck's bill, and it lays eggs,” Hermione said. “The males are venomous, too.”

Scarlett goggled at her. “You're making that up!”

“Yes, they're a hoax. An entire country has collectively decided to make up an animal in order to mess with foreigners,” Draco said with a straight face. 

“Ignore him,” Harry said. “They're real.”

The rest of the trip was taken up with a spirited debate about the existence, or lack thereof, of various creatures. Scarlett was inclined to believe Luna's tales, much to Hermione's annoyance. 

“They're wasting their time,” Hermione muttered as they stepped onto platform 9 ¾. 

“Who cares? I'm sure they'll enjoy their holiday,” Harry said. 

Hermione looked at him doubtfully, but didn't say anything as they pushed their trolleys through the barrier. They saw Narcissa straight away. She immediately enveloped Draco in a tight hug. 

“It's good to have you back, darling. I'm so proud of you for helping to clear my cousin's name,” she said fondly.

“I didn't do much,” Draco said as she released him. 

“Nonsense, you were very brave from what I've heard from my friends in the Ministry,” she said, giving hugs to Harry and Hermione. 

“Thank you for your Christmas present, Mrs Malfoy,” Hermione said politely. 

“I knew as soon as I saw it that the colour would suit you,” Narcissa said. “Draco, have you invited your friends to the Manor?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Good. Harry, I've corresponded with Dumbledore about your situation with the Dursleys. Whilst he was adamant that you must return there for your mother's blood protection to be maintained, he has conceded that it need not be for long. I thought we could come and collect you next Tuesday.”

Harry beamed at her. Just a week with the Dursleys! “That'd be fantastic!”

Narcissa smiled. “I thought you might like that.”

Draco cleared his throat. “Mother, I have something I'd like to tell you.”

“What is it, darling? You sound serious. You didn't fail anything, did you?” Narcissa asked sternly.

Draco waved a hand. “No, it's nothing bad. Quite the reverse, actually. Harry's my boyfriend.”

“I see. And when did this happen?” Narcissa looked at him expectantly.

“January. I wanted to tell you in person, not in a letter,” Draco explained, grabbing Harry's hand nervously.

“It took you that long?” Narcissa asked, her lips twitching. Hermione giggled.

Draco gaped at his mother. “You knew?”

Narcissa let out a chuckle. “I'm your mother, darling, and you've never been good at hiding anything from me. Of course I knew you liked each other. I was expecting an owl from you much earlier than January, frankly.”

Draco looked at Harry, who shrugged. He wasn't all that surprised that Narcissa had figured it out. 

“You can tell me all about it at home, darling. I'm sure Hermione is eager to see her parents, and I suppose we shouldn't keep Harry's relatives waiting,” Narcissa said. 

Harry hugged Hermione and kissed Draco on the cheek. “What time will you be picking me up?” he asked Narcissa.

“Eleven o'clock. We can go out for lunch before returning to the Manor. Make sure you're packed in time, please, I don't want to spend any longer at that place than I have to.”

Harry nodded quickly. “I'll be waiting.”

He grinned one last time and made his way over to Uncle Vernon.

“Took your time, boy.”

“Sorry. I was talking to Narcissa about my godfather. He's a convicted murderer, and has escaped from prison. You would have heard of him: Sirius Black?”

The look on Uncle Vernon's face would keep him amused until the Malfoys came to pick him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read this far in the series. Knowing that people are enjoying my story thus far is a massive mindhole blower. Thank you for all your kudos - and especially your comments. They always brighten my day. :)
> 
> And a massive thanks to Cynical Turkey, who is (in her words) the only useful Gryffindor in existence. You'll always be a boisterous little puppy to me. 
> 
> I'll be posting the first chapter of Fourth Year in just over a month - on 1st September!! I'm super excited by this coincidence because I'm a massive nerd. I know it's quite a while away, but I need the time to get cracking on writing Fifth Year!


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